


Fallen Leaves, Fallen Bellas

by lets_talk_appella



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: Brief Mention of Blood, F/F, Horror, Humor, Not sure if this is going to work out but we'll try it, Pitch Perfect Horror Week 2018, Romance, Slow Burn, cabin in the woods, creepy puppets, some hitchcock twists
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-02
Updated: 2018-11-03
Packaged: 2019-07-23 21:30:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 35,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16167317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lets_talk_appella/pseuds/lets_talk_appella
Summary: “It’s not true, though,” Chloe’s voice jarred them from their thoughts. “I mean, it can’t be. Ghosts aren’t real, and they definitely don’t kill people. You made that up to scare us, right?” she asked Aubrey, smiling uncertainly.Aubrey didn’t smile back.Or, a horror-themed twist on the Lodge at Fallen Leaves. Originally for Pitch Perfect Horror Week 2018.





	1. Chippy

**Author's Note:**

> This is tagged horror, though it will not be graphic. Creepy, not violent or bloody.

Beca really didn’t see the point of going on the retreat. Okay, fine. Maybe they _had_ eaten a huge bag of “Aaargghhh” as Chloe had said after the Convention performance, but did it really warrant going to some stupid camp?

No. It did not.

She had more important things to do, like homework (ha) and her internship. The one that no one knew about. She felt kind of bad about that little secret, but hey. Chloe was already riding the Crazy Train and didn’t need any other stress in her life. But really, if Chloe thought that the retreat was going to fix all of their problems, she was in for a nasty shock.

And yet, here they were, all packed on a bus headed for God-knows-where.

Beca leaned her head back against her seat, eyes closed and earbuds in. She really didn’t want to have to listen to the other Bellas relive their performance. Fine. Maybe the gold jumpsuits hadn’t been their greatest outfits, but she’d thought the arrangement had been fine.

Well. Okay, it wasn’t her best. But considering she’d put it together in, like, five hours, she thought it could have been worse. And the choreo had been decent. Ish.

The fire was pretty bad. Cynthia-Rose still brought it up.

Beca’s phone vibrated in her hand. She looked down to see a message from Jesse asking how the road trip was going. She swiped it aside, not wanting to talk about it.

They’d broken up right before the Bellas had left for the Convention performance. It had been mutual(ish); she’d barely seen him during the school year and had found she didn’t miss him. He had felt the same, and together(ish) they’d decided it would better to just be friends.

She was fine. They still talked. It was just weird.

The other Bellas, strangely, had been almost excited when she’d told them about the breakup. Beca had no idea what that was about. The only one who hadn’t said anything was Chloe, who had been acting kind of weird ever since. She didn’t know what that was about, either.

She tried not to let it bother her. She just missed talking to Chloe about things, that was all.

Jesse had talked about Chloe when they broke up. About how she looked at Beca sometimes, and how Beca looked at her. Beca hated that he might be right (Chloe was beautiful and funny and her best friend), but she didn’t believe for a second that Chloe could think of her as anything other than as a friend.

“We’re almost here!” Chloe’s excited voice sliced over the sound of the music in Beca’s ears. She cracked open her eyes to see Chloe standing at the front of the bus, staring at them all expectantly.

She craned her neck to peer out the window, only to jerk back in surprise. The last time she’d looked outside, they’d been driving on a wide-open road, blue skies and sunshine all around. Now, though, her line of vision was filled with trees. Hundreds of trees, so densely packed together that she couldn’t see anything beyond them; they must have been deep in the woods. Fog filtered through the tree trunks, making it even harder to see. Everything was dim. She glanced up to see gray overcast skies with low, menacing clouds. She shivered automatically, wondering if a storm was rolling in.

She looked ahead of the bus, searching for any sign of a camp site or a cabin or _anything_ , but saw only more trees and fog. Awesome.

She thought Chloe had to be mistaken; they must have taken a wrong turn somewhere. Gradually, though, the trees thinned enough to reveal a small cluster of about five cabins ahead. Except…

“Um, what the hell are those?” Cynthia-Rose spoke for the first time since they’d boarded the bus.

Beca privately seconded her question. As the bus drew nearer to the cabins, she saw that they were incredibly run-down, with shingles missing, window panes broken, siding damaged, and doors lopsided. They looked abandoned, like they’d been taken over by the forest.

“They’re cabins,” Chloe replied firmly, gazing out the windshield.

The bus ground to a slow stop outside the “cabins.” The Bellas stared at them in silence. They looked worse up close; Beca could see cobwebs strung in their rafters and plants overtaking the foundations. They were awfully dark inside, and the cloud cover and the fog weren’t helping. Stacie and Emily exchanged incredulous looks in front of her.

“Chloe? Are you sure this is the retreat?” Amy muttered from the driver’s seat. “I followed what you put in the GPS…”

Chloe nodded. “Yeah, this is right. Why?” she asked, blinking at Amy.

A coyote or a wolf or _something_ howled outside. Flo crossed herself.

Amy shifted. “Um, it’s just a little…”

“Murdery?” Beca suggested, she thought helpfully.

Chloe’s eyes zeroed in on hers almost angrily, but Beca refused to back down. If Chloe was pissed at her because of the Convention performance, well, she needed to get over it. It wasn’t like Beca could go back in time to fix it.

“’Murdery’?” Chloe quoted back at her. Beca didn’t like her tone.

“Yeah. Like, creepy backwoods murder cabin,” Beca fired back, her temper flaring slightly. If Chloe could be angry, well, so could she.

Chloe sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Look,” she said bluntly. “We need help. This will help.”

“If we don’t get stabbed first,” Stacie whispered from the corner of her mouth.

Chloe glared at her, but before she could say anything, Emily raised her hand. “So, why is it all foggy and cold? It’s April.”

Beca hadn’t noticed until Emily said it, but it was definitely colder here than it had been when they’d left Barden that morning. She shivered again, wishing she’d packed more sweaters. And pepper spray.

 “It’s ‘cuz we’re at a low zone on the lake,” Chloe said airily, waving a hand. “Come on, let’s go meet our host!” she turned, duffel in hand, and charged down the bus stairs, clearly intending them to follow.

No one moved.

“Yeah, right,” Cynthia-Rose muttered. “I’ve seen this movie. I’m not getting off the bus.”

Beca agreed. She hadn’t seen the movie – whatever movie it was – but she knew enough about creepy cabins in the woods to not have any desire to move from safety. Lilly muttered something then that had Ashley and Jessica shifting away from her, looking horrified.

Something pounded hard on the window by Beca’s head. She jerked back, feeling like she was having a heart attack, only to see the top half of Chloe’s very angry-looking face. “Move!” Chloe shouted through the glass. “Let’s go!”

The Bellas all looked at each other in silence, unease filling the bus like water. Finally, Flo stood with a shrug and said, “Well, I wasn’t expecting to live this long.” She grabbed her bag from the overhead bin and trekked off the bus.

Muttering, the others started to move after her. Beca didn’t like it, but she reached for her own bag and hauled it down, bringing up the rear.

Once off the bus, though, Beca couldn’t help but think they’d made a terrible mistake. The cabins, though large – they were all two stories – appeared even worse up close, as if no one had been there for about thirty years.

Dense woods surrounded them on three sides, and from the new angle, Beca spotted what looked vaguely like an empty concrete pool off to the left of the cabins, and what could be a medium-sized body of water several hundred yards behind the them. _If they had a lake,_ Beca wondered, _why the pool?_ She spotted power lines running between the cabins and toward the pool, so at least that meant they’d have electricity.

Something still seemed off, though. The hairs on the back of Beca’s neck rose and she looked around nervously. She felt like she was being watched.

“Where is everyone?” Amy asked loudly, making Beca jump. “Why is it so… quiet?”

She was right; Beca hadn’t noticed until then, but it was unnaturally quiet. She strained her ears, searching for anything. Surely, there had to be other people at this retreat, right? She stared at the cabins uneasily, seeing and hearing no one. Even the usual nature noises were missing; no birds chirped, no squirrels rustled around. There was just nothing. In fact, the only noise they’d heard so far was that lone howl.

Great.

“Welcome, to the Lodge at Fallen Leaves, Bellas!”

Beca jumped again, so violently this time that she trod on Lilly’s foot. She wasn’t the only one startled; Emily screamed, Stacie grabbed her own boobs in self-defense, and Amy swore loudly. All of that was drowned out, though, by the sound of Chloe’s excited cheer.

“Aubrey!”

Aubrey? Like, _the_ Aubrey?

Beca spun around; sure enough, there was Aubrey Posen, clad in a khaki skirt and a pink polo, a relaxed smile on her face, a shotgun over one shoulder, and a marionette cradled in her other arm.

Wait. What?

Beca did a double take, blinking rapidly. But no, she hadn’t been mistaken; Aubrey was most certainly carrying a gun and a large puppet. She stared at puppet first. It looked like one of those ventriloquism dolls, complete with painted brown hair and black eyes, fancy clothing, and a mobile jaw. It was horrifying.

“What the fu –”

“Hey, everyone!” Aubrey exclaimed. “It’s so good to see you all!”

Chloe rushed forward to give her a hug, but the rest of the Bellas stayed back. Beca saw that most of their eyes were fixed on the creepy doll.

Aubrey must have noticed; when Chloe pulled back, she nodded down at the marionette in her arm and said, “Oh, this is Chippy. He’s going to help us out with some group bonding exercises.”

That’s when it clicked.

“Oh,” Beca breathed, trying hard to make eye contact with Aubrey instead of with Chippy (that thing was fucking weird), “you’re running the retreat, aren’t you?”

Aubrey turned sharply to Chloe. “You didn’t tell them it’s my retreat?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.

Chloe shook her head no. “I wanted it to be a surprise.”

“If I woke up with a third boob I wouldn’t have been more surprised,” Amy muttered, earning a dirty look from Chloe.

Beca cleared her throat and asked, trying to keep her voice steady, “So… are there other people around? Like, business people or anyone for the retreat?”

She really, really didn’t like the thought of them being the only ones stranded in the woods.

Well. Them and Chippy.

Aubrey waved a hand at her. “Just us! No one else since the accident. But I promise we’ll have fun!”

Emily raised her hand. “Um, what accident?”

Aubrey ignored her in favor of adjusting Chippy’s shirt.

“Are there any other, you know, witnesses?” Cynthia-Rose chimed in.

“And what’s the gun for?” Jessica asked timidly.

Even Chloe looked interested in that answer. They all waited, Beca becoming more uneasy by the second, but Aubrey only continued to fidget with the puppet. Lilly smiled happily.

A twig snapped behind them and they whirled; Emily fell over. A tall, muscular man walked up, his clothes caked in dirt, his gloved hands gripping a long, lethal-looking shovel. He was probably in his mid-twenties, with brown hair and a serious expression; his brown eyes traveled around the group, as if he was deciding on who to murder first.

His gaze lingered on Chloe.

“Everyone, this is David,” Aubrey introduced, moving to stand next to him. “He’s our gardener and maintenance person.”

Beca quirked an eyebrow, noting the massive thistles springing up around the rotting foundations of several cabins.

David really needed to stop looking at Chloe. And Chloe really, really, needed to stop flipping her hair and biting her lip at him. Beca felt her face twist into a scowl and did her very best to ignore the way Amy’s eyes flicked between her and Chloe.

“And don’t forget about me,” a new voice said, drawing their attention to the left. As if out of nowhere, a woman about their age stepped out from the trees, wearing a similar outfit to Aubrey’s, but with shorts instead.

Really short shorts. Shorts that showed off her really nice, tan legs. Beca’s eyes traveled up; the nice legs were attached to a nicer set of hips, which led to a perfect torso, chest and neck, up to the most beautiful (or maybe second most beautiful) face Beca had ever seen. She had long, natural-looking blonde hair that fell in waves to frame blue eyes, sharp cheekbones, a great jawline, and a small beauty spot to the right of her nose.

Beca felt like she’d been clubbed over the head; no way was this woman real.

Chloe cleared her throat loudly.

“And this,” declared Aubrey, gesturing to the woman, “is our camp counselor, Paris.”

Paris. That was a nice name. She grinned at Beca, who smiled back automatically, wishing that she’d brushed her hair before getting off the bus.

Chloe cleared her throat again. Beca wondered vaguely if she needed a cough drop or something.

“Why don’t we head inside a cabin,” Aubrey suggested, still holding Chippy and her gun. “We can all catch up there.”

Before she really knew what she was doing, Beca nodded and started following the three camp guides into one of the decrepit cabins. She wouldn’t mind getting to know Paris at all.

* * *

It turned out that Aubrey actually lived in one of the larger cabins (“It’s not a cabin, it’s a _lodge_ ,” Aubrey had explained loftily) along with David and Paris, who trooped upstairs to leave the Bellas in the living room with Aubrey (Beca tried to ignore that Chloe’s eyes followed David up the steps. She distracted herself by watching Paris.)

Beca couldn’t imagine why they lived in a lodge. The place was creep-central. Aubrey flicked on a light as they walked in, casting an orange glow over everything. Beca looked around to see it was as alarmingly run-down on the inside as on the outside, with paint chipping off the walls, dirt coating the light fixtures, and clearly broken appliances. Everything had an overall damp smell, including the musty-looking couch and the armchairs scattered around the room. A cracked fireplace adorned the side wall.

Something rectangular and brown was hung on the wall; wondering if it was an exceptionally bad painting, Beca moved closer. After a moment, she realized it was a mirror turned around, so the reflective glass faced the wall.

Um. Okay. Beca walked past it and further into the living room, not caring much for Aubrey’s taste in decoration.

“Hey, Commander Posen,” Amy called out, making Aubrey snap around to look at her. “Where can I plug in my phone?”

With a somewhat manic smile (Beca really wished Aubrey would put Chippy away), Aubrey replied, “Oh, you won’t be needing your phones. There’s no service here.”

A general outcry of dismay ran through the group, then a flurry of movement as they all dug for their phones. With some difficulty, Beca extracted her phone from her jeans and checked. Sure enough, no service.

“But we had service on the road in…” Stacie’s voice trailed off under Aubrey’s stern look.

“It doesn’t matter anyway,” she said, “because you’re actually going to be handing your phones over to me.”

“What?”

“But –”

 “Ladies!” Aubrey shouted with enough force to jostle both Chippy and her gun. They all stared at her in stunned silence.

Aubrey took a deep breath before forcing another wide smile. “You won’t need your phones,” she said with a forced calm, “because this is a group bonding experience. There isn’t any service, and this way, we can all talk to each other.”

Cynthia-Rose looked nauseous at the thought.

“So, I’m going to pass around a basket, and you’re going to put your phones in that,” Aubrey said, turning to place both her shotgun and the freaky puppet on the couch. She lingered over Chippy, making sure he was sitting upright and that his clothes weren’t crooked or wrinkled. With a last smile at the puppet, Aubrey made her way over to a stand in the corner of the room, on which sat a small wicker basket.

Beca caught Amy’s eye; they both raised their eyebrows. The doll needed to go.

“Phones in, please,” Aubrey said, turning with basket in hand.

No one moved.

Aubrey took a deep breath and held it for a moment. Beca wondered if she was counting to ten in her head. “Phones in, please,” she repeated, forcing a painful-looking smile on her face.

“We might as well, guys,” Chloe said bracingly. “We are bonding, and Aubrey knows her stuff!”

And with a happy bounce, Chloe reached forward and dropped her phone in the basket before taking it and passing it to Lilly, who was standing next to her. Glumly, each of the Bellas in turn dropped their phones in the basket.

Beca sighed when it got to her. At least it would give her some space from Jesse. She dropped her phone in and handed the basket to Stacie.

“Great!” Aubrey enthused, clapping her hands together once and sitting in an armchair directly in front of the fireplace. “For our first exercise, we’re going to –”

“Exercise, what?” Amy asked loudly. “Don’t put me down for cardio.”

“Yeah, when’s dinner?” Emily raised her hand. “I really think a balanced meal –”

“For our first exercise,” Aubrey spoke over them loudly, “we are going to sit around this table and tell some stories. Like a get-to-know-you.”

Beca resisted rolling her eyes, but only just. They already knew each other. And she really didn’t need to hear any more of Stacie’s sexcapade stories. Or Amy’s, for that matter.

Chloe, however, nodded sagely and perched herself on the couch as if there was nowhere she’d rather be. Though, Beca noticed that she kept a sizeable distance between herself and Chippy.

Reluctantly, the rest of the Bellas followed suit, and Beca found herself seated in a rickety chair that smelled like someone had died in it recently.

“Great!” Aubrey cheered once they were all seated. “Let’s keep this informal. You can talk about whatever you’d like. Who’s up first?”

Lilly’s hand shot up. Without waiting for them to say anything, she whispered, “Once I was abducted by aliens and they implanted a chip in my arm and taught me to beatbox.”

Flo shifted uncomfortably.

After a moment, Chloe nodded encouragingly. “This is just what we need, you guys,” she said. “We need to bond and get our sound back.”

Beca felt bad for her. It was kind of painful, actually, how much Chloe wanted this to work. She realized with a pang that she was largely to blame for the rift in the group. So, with a soft sigh, Beca leaned forward.

Before she could say anything, though, Cynthia-Rose jumped in. “Yeah, let’s not do that. How about you” – she looked pointedly at Aubrey – “tell us about this camp? What’s with the accident and that freaky-ass doll?”

“And the fog,” Emily added.

“I want to know about the creepy cabins,” Flo stated.

Aubrey silenced them with a raise of her hands. She glanced at Chloe, who nodded in support. “Okay,” she said finally, “Look…”

The lights went out.

Someone screamed and Beca heard a huge thud; reflexively, she jumped to her feet, only for the lights to flare on again.

Everyone blinked up at her in confusion. “Who screamed?” she asked, quickly doing a head count.

“It was me,” Emily said sheepishly from the ground; evidently, she’d fallen off her chair.

“The lights do that sometimes,” Aubrey said calmly. “Don’t worry. It’s just because we’re so far out here.”

But Beca was only half-listening. Her gaze was drawn down to the puppet now sitting squarely in Aubrey’s lap. Chippy stared back at her balefully.

“Um,” Chloe said, looking from the empty spot beside her on the couch to the marionette in Aubrey’s lap. “How did –”

“You asked about the camp,” a voice said from behind Beca, making her whirl around.

There, framed in the doorway, was Paris the camp counselor, hand on her hip and smirk on her lips. Chloe crossed her arms. Cynthia-Rose looked gleefully at Beca.

“What do you want to know?” Paris continued, moving to sit at the recently vacated spot on the couch (Chloe shifted away).

Beca returned to her seat but didn’t take her eyes from Paris. Speaking to her, Beca said, “We want to know about the camp, and how you guys got it, and what that accident Aubrey mentioned was.”

Aubrey cleared her throat, snaring everyone’s attention. “That’s easy,” she said. “The camp used to be a getaway for middle school kids. They’d come in the summer, play in the lake, stay in the cabins, that kind of thing,” Aubrey waved a hand dismissively, then continued. “Well, a few years ago, the camp had to close, and it’s been vacant since. I heard about it after leaving Barden, and I figured I’d reboot it as a team-building camp for stressed business people. My caring nature is just perfect for it.”

Amy snorted.

Aubrey glared at her. “Fine,” she said through gritted teeth, “I like the yelling.”

Beca nodded, as did the other Bellas, including Chloe. It made sense.

“But why did the camp close?” Flo asked. “In my country, a small accident wouldn’t close a camp like this.”

“Who said it was a ‘little’ accident?” Paris threw in with a grin and a wink at Beca. Beca felt her face heat up and looked in the opposite direction. Smooth.

Aubrey sighed and raised a hand to smooth back her hair. “A camp counselor died about twenty years ago,” she said bluntly. “The second-to-last year the camp was open.”

“What happened?” asked Chloe, aghast.

Grimacing, Aubrey said, “It’s not nice. He was cleaning the pool in a rainstorm, and lightning struck the water; he was electrocuted instantly.”

“What kind of idiot cleans the pool in a storm?” Stacie muttered to Jessica, who shrugged.

“And the year after that,” Aubrey continued, “Weird stuff started happening. Lights flickering. Weird weather. Dishes would fly from the shelves. Writing would appear on the mirrors in red ink. And then, one night, they found a kid in the pool. He’d been electrocuted. And beside the pool, written in that same red ink, was a message.”

“What did it say?” Emily squeaked out, leaning forward.

Aubrey took a deep breath. “It said, ‘If you ever open this camp again, I’ll be back.’”

A deafening silence filled the room. Beca wasn’t sure whether she should laugh or not; she didn’t believe in ghosts, but that was a creepy story.

“It’s not true, though,” Chloe’s voice jarred them from their thoughts. “I mean, it can’t be. Ghosts aren’t real, and they _definitely_ don’t kill people. You made that up to scare us, right?” She asked Aubrey, smiling uncertainly.

Aubrey didn’t smile back.

“It’s true,” Paris said suddenly from the couch. “Look in the local newspapers if you don’t believe it.”

“And where the hell are we going to get those?” Amy muttered to Cynthia-Rose. “That’s a load of horse shit.”

But, before Amy crossed her arms, Beca saw that her hands were shaking.

“Anyway,” Aubrey sighed, “that’s what happened, and that’s why you guys are the only ones here. You’re the first to arrive since the camp closed.”

Beca turned sharply to Chloe. That couldn’t be true. No way would Chloe have dragged them out here as a trial run for Aubrey. However, Chloe didn’t meet her eyes; she chewed her lip, looking lost in thought.

A resonating gong sound rang through the room, startling everyone except Aubrey and Paris. Looking around, Beca saw it was coming from a huge clock on the mantel behind Aubrey, who twisted in her chair (one hand holding Chippy in place) to check the time.

“Fall in line, Bellas!” she exclaimed, turning back to face them. “It’s time to make dinner, and then you’re headed off to bed.”

“What?” Beca asked incredulously. “It’s, like, 6.”

“Unfortunately,” Aubrey plowed on, ignoring her, “we don’t have enough lodges for you guys to stay in.”

Jessica frowned. “I thought you said –”

“But there is a tent waiting for you all outside,” Aubrey spoke even more loudly. “You will have to erect it, then you can come help with dinner. You can spend the night in the tent.”

Amy raised her hand and said quietly, “Not a good enough reason to use the world ‘erect.’”

Chloe bounded to her feet, looking around the group at them all (but ignoring Paris). “You heard her, Bellas, it’s just another bonding exercise!”

Beca rose to her feet, grumbling. She couldn’t believe they’d have to spend the night in a tent, especially after that story. But ghosts weren’t real, and, in looking around the lodge, she wasn’t entirely convinced being indoors was any safer.

“Come on, guys,” she sighed, figuring that as co-captain, she should at least try to be helpful. The beaming smile Chloe sent her way almost made it worth it. Almost.

With much grumbling, the Bellas rose from their chairs. Paris stood as well, walking past Beca (did she mean to brush by that closely?) to stand next to Aubrey.

“Someone take away that creepy puppet,” Stacie muttered as they trooped out into the fog.

 


	2. Footsteps

Setting up a tent in the middle of the woods on a dreary day after hearing an extremely unsettling ghost story was about as fun as it sounds. It had taken nearly two hours and excessive amounts of screaming and swearing.

Emily and Lilly had gotten into a swordfight with the poles. Amy had insisted they build the tent around her and had refused to help. Chloe spent most of the time looking at the paper instructions and saying things like “This is team-building! Go Bellas!” without actually helping. Stacie had complained loudly the entire time about tent-pitching messing with her cuticle care routine, though Beca was pretty sure she could have had the tent set up in minutes, with all her NASA and physics knowledge. Cynthia-Rose and Flo kept jumping at small noises, and that left Beca, Jessica, and Ashley to actually construct the tent in a small clearing between the cabins and the dense woods.

Beca had despised every minute of it. Aubrey, David, and Paris had all watched from the (relative) safety and (also relative) warmth of their cabin. Or lodge. Whatever the hell.

Beca found this more distracting than anything; Aubrey kept attending to her creepy Chippy doll, at one point even using a comb to adjust its painted-on hair. Beca noticed that David’s attention seemed annoyingly focused on Chloe, who kept twisting her hair around one finger and “dropping” the instructions so she’d have to bend over.

Beca grit her teeth so often watching them that she was amazed she didn’t lose a molar.

Paris’s presence was equally distracting; every time those gorgeous eyes so much as flicked in her direction, she felt her face warm and often dropped whatever she was holding. At one particularly low point (Paris had winked at her), she accidentally whacked herself in the face with a tent pole, much to Cynthia-Rose’s amusement.

Chloe didn’t seem to find it very funny, though.

Despite the distractions, Beca couldn’t shake the unease that settled into her bones. The more time they spent at the retreat, the less she liked it. She could tell the others felt the same. She’d never seen Cynthia-Rose so jumpy; Stacie glanced over her shoulder so often it looked like she had a twitch, and Amy kept squinting up at the increasingly-heavy clouds.

More than that, Beca again felt a heavy presence on her back, like she was being watched. Not from the direction of the cabins, either, but from the direction of the woods.

Well. From the direction of the empty concrete pool off to the side. But no matter how many times she looked that direction, eyes searching for any sign of movement, she saw nothing.

All in all, getting the tent finally set up was a relief. That is, until –

“Bellas, assemble!” Aubrey’s shrill voice cut through the mist settling over the retreat grounds. “Come help with dinner!”

“She should have been a dance coach,” Stacie mumbled under her breath, wincing. “Mine used to yell like that all the time.”

“Whatever, as long as we get to eat,” Amy said, picking herself up from the ground and dusting her clothes off.

Beca caught up with Chloe to walk next to her as they entered the lodge. “You know this is a little intense, right?” she asked, though quietly. No need to risk Aubrey’s wrath. Or Chippy’s, for that matter; the mannequin was sitting contentedly in the armchair Aubrey had relatively recently vacated, his eyes staring into her soul as the Bellas made their way to the kitchen.

Chloe wrinkled her nose and whispered back, “I mean, Aubrey’s methods might be unorthodox, but I think it’s what we need.”

“Okay, sure, but –”

Out of nowhere, a hand landed on Beca’s arm, cutting her off. She turned to see Paris smiling at her. “Beca, want to help me cut the vegetables?” Paris asked suggestively. Though, what could possibly be suggestive about cutting vegetables, Beca had no idea.

“Uh, sure,” Beca replied, her hands immediately becoming sweaty (that’s attractive), “but can I finish talking with…?” her voice trailed off as Chloe walked away briskly to join Stacie and David at the kitchen stovetop.

“Great!” Paris enthused, ignoring Beca’s disappointment. She led her to a side countertop, where onions, peppers, and garlic were already sitting on cutting boards, a knife block placed nearby.

“So, we’re just going to cut all of this up and send it over to those two,” Paris instructed, gesturing to Cynthia-Rose and Emily, who had awkwardly joined Chloe, Stacie, and David.

Beca noticed that Chloe’s hand landed on David’s arm far more often than necessary as he talked about God-knows-what (probably crop irrigation or something dumb). Pursing her lips in annoyance, she turned back to Paris in time to see her flip her hair back. The nice floral scent of what must be her perfume wafted through the air, making Beca lean in unconsciously.

The next second, she snapped out of it and shook her head, trying to reel herself in; the last thing she needed was to cut off a finger because of some pretty camp counselor. Especially if she was going to need those fingers later to –

“Go on, grab a knife!” Paris urged, nudging Beca playfully with her elbow.

Beca felt her face burn. She’d never been more thankful that thoughts were private. She reached to the knife block, noting absently that the largest knife, what looked like a huge chef knife, was already missing. Smaller chopping knife in hand, Beca reached for the nearest pepper and began to cut into it.

“So, Beca, tell me about yourself,” Paris prompted conversationally as she also used a small chopping knife to dice an onion.

Beca blinked; what was this, a job interview? She didn’t open up to people. She just didn’t. And yet, before she knew what was happening, Beca was telling Paris all about Barden, and about the Bellas, and even a little about Jesse. It was alarming; she never warmed up to strangers so quickly, but Paris had the most open expression and the second most beautiful eyes she’d ever seen and…

“Phew, we made great progress!” Paris gestured at the pile of decimated vegetables in front of them.

Beca looked down in surprise to see that she was right; all the veggies were cut up and ready for the pan. Talking to Paris had made the time fly by. Numbly, Beca carried her cutting board of vegetables over to the waiting pan at the stovetop, still unsure as to how it had happened.

She tipped the veggies in the pan and tried to catch Chloe’s attention, but Chloe’s focus was on David, who was chatting animatedly about his former bodybuilding years. Beca’s eye twitched and Cynthia-Rose shot her a sympathetic grin.

The rest of dinner prep went by quickly thanks to the presence of ten Bellas, Aubrey, David, and Paris all in the kitchen, and soon they settled at Aubrey’s large dinner table. There was enough space for each of them, including Chippy, who had his own chair at the table between Aubrey and Flo. It was unnerving; Beca didn’t remember seeing anyone move the puppet from its spot on the armchair. She watched with mild horror as Aubrey even piled a serving of spaghetti onto Chippy’s waiting plate. Several of the other Bella’s eyes were also focused on the marionette, however, Paris and David didn’t seem to find anything odd about Aubrey’s behavior or Chippy’s presence at the table.

Flo shifted her chair as far from the doll as possible, until she was practically sitting on Stacie’s lap.

Dinner was relatively quiet. The overhead chandelier, coated as it was with cobwebs and dust, barely gave off any light as it flickered, the electricity unreliable as ever. The darkness outside pressed against the windows as they ate, as if trying to reach in and snatch away what little light they had.

Beca looked around furtively at her dinner-mates; Cynthia-Rose’s eyes kept flicking between Aubrey and Chippy, while Flo, Stacie, and Emily appeared more concerned with the darkness outside. Even Chloe seemed uneasy, jumping at every creak of the old lodge, her spaghetti barely touched and her eyes flicking to Paris a concerning amount. Beca supposed she’d noticed how attractive she was, and her mood worsened. Of the Bellas, Lilly alone seemed comfortable.

David and Paris, on the other hand, appeared completely at ease even in the silence. Beca glanced over at Aubrey, then had to do a double-take; even in the short amount of time that had passed from earlier in the living room, Aubrey looked different. She had small bags under her eyes, and her smile looked more manic than usual. She sat rigidly in her chair, her upper body oriented not toward her food, but toward Chippy. Her hair had somehow wilted, and even her clothing appeared duller than it had earlier.

The sound of a throat clearing pulled Beca from her scrutiny of Aubrey; Amy had leaned forward.

“Hey, uh, not to interrupt the lively conversation,” Amy said, earning a small cough from Emily, “but where abouts will we be sleeping, then?”

Aubrey blinked at her, then said, “Well… in the tent. I thought that was obvious.”

Amy squinted back and said in a high-pitched voice, “Mmm… listen, Commander Posen, that tent would fit about four of these twig bitches, and not so much my sexy ass, so…”

“You can fit,” David said suddenly. “Just alternate. You know, some facing one way, some the other.”

Beca’s heart dropped; she’d been afraid that would happen.

“There’re four other cabins!” Emily exclaimed, and edge to her voice. “Why can’t we stay there?”

“They are unsafe,” Aubrey declared in monotone. “The floors are old, and I do not want anyone getting hurt.”

“And what about that creepy-ass ghost?” Cynthia-Rose interjected.

“Yeah,” Stacie nodded, “I’d rather not get electrocuted.”

Aubrey sighed and lifted a hand to pinch the bridge of her nose. “I should not have told you about Charles. Now you’re all scared.”

“Who’s Charles?” Beca asked, confused.

“He was the camp counselor,” Paris said with a huge smile at Beca. Chloe cleared her throat yet again. She really needed to drink tea or something. “The one that died.”

“Ah. Yeah, about that –”

“No arguments,” Aubrey said suddenly, rising from her chair, pasta-filled plate in hand. “Consider this a bonding exercise. You will sleep in the tent.”

They stared at her, even Chloe. Aubrey sounded angry.

She must have realized it; she took a deep breath, forced yet another manic smile, and said in a gentler tone, “There are sleeping bags in the hall closet. David and Paris will show you.”

Then, she kneeled next to Chippy, and in a sickly-sweet voice asked him ( _it_ , Beca reminded herself. It’s an it.), “All done?”

Beca glanced at the plate of pasta that had been placed in front of the doll, wholly expecting it to still be full, only to see that it had been completely cleared. Her stomach plunged; that wasn’t possible. Puppets don’t eat.

Except, apparently, this one had.

Still smiling sappily at Chippy, Aubrey swept up the empty plate and carried both it and hers to the kitchen.

“Okay,” Beca said loudly, “can someone please explain how the fuck that _thing_ managed to –”

“Bellas, please follow me,” David interrupted, rising from his chair. “I’ll show you to the sleeping bags.”

“But –”

“Now, please.”

Beca looked at Chloe helplessly, waiting for backup from her co-captain, but Chloe merely shrugged, not meeting her eyes. She glanced instead at Amy, who only widened her eyes and nodded, which wasn’t overly helpful. So, with a huge sigh of defeat, Beca stood to follow David to the supply closet.

* * *

They trooped outside single file, headed reluctantly toward the tent (which had started to lean somewhat concerningly to the left).

The walk was short – barely 200 feet – but eerie; the clouds stifled the moon and stars so that their only source of light came from the flickering windows of Aubrey’s lodge and from the light pole above the empty pool. The other cabins remained dark in their state of decay.

Beca’s eyes drifted to the pool; she kind of wished that could have remained in darkness, too. The concrete and glare of the light played tricks on her vision. More than once, she thought she saw something move in the pool. Each time, her heart jolted, but she didn’t say anything to the others; she didn’t want to scare them because she was imagining things.

They reached the tent and crawled in one by one, pointing their feet in opposite directions to sleep head-to-head as David (he was so annoying) had suggested. Beca was surprised – but pleasantly so – when Chloe chose to lay next to her. She’d been worried that the weird tension they’d been riding since the Convention Performance (and from even before) would shove Chloe away, but apparently not.

However, that didn’t mean she had to be happy about their current sleeping arrangement.

“The air we’re breathing right now is at least 90% fart,” she muttered angrily to no one in particular.

“That reminds me,” Amy said, sitting up. “I need to see a man about a horse.”

Beca wrinkled her nose and did her best to ignore the sounds of Amy crawling over her fellow Bellas to escape the death trap that was their tent. Aubrey had expressly forbidden them to reenter the lodge for anything (“Bonding!” she’d shrieked before they’d left, Chippy grinning blankly at them from her arms) so she supposed that left Amy to find a tree.

 To avoid thinking any more about Chippy, Beca turned to Chloe and whispered, “What are we doing?”

It came out harsher than she’d intended, and even upside down she saw the hurt in Chloe’s expression. Before she could take it back, though, Chloe blinked and the moment passed.

“We’re bonding,” Chloe responded softly. “You seem so tense. Do you need a backrub?” She reached out to touch Beca’s forehead.

Reflexively, Beca shook her hand off, trying not to think about how nice even that simple touch had felt. It didn’t mean anything; Chloe wouldn’t have spent all afternoon flirting with David if it had.

“Several body parts are rubbing my back right now, thank you,” Beca replied, annoyance flaring in her chest. Stupid David.

 “You know, Beca,” Chloe started after a small pause, “we’re very close, but I think this retreat really is gonna let us discover everything about each other.”

Guilt over her secret internship rose in Beca’s throat, but she swallowed it down before her face could betray her. If all went well, they would win Worlds and Chloe would never have to know.

“Is that right?” she asked, trying to play it cool.

Chloe nodded, and after a brief hesitation, whispered, “You know, one of my biggest regrets is that I didn’t do enough experimenting in college.”

The air rushed from Beca’s lungs like she’d been hit by a truck. Did Chloe really just say that? Beca knew vaguely that Chloe had some interest in girls, but she’d had no idea it was anything beyond mild curiosity. She shoved aside her stupid, irrational excitement about what this could mean for her – for _them_ – and frantically tried to think of something to say, maybe about how she’d been interested in girls for a while now, too. But how the hell was she supposed to say that clearly in a tent full of other people?

Before she could even try, though, Amy’s screams ripped through the air.

Adrenaline shot through Beca’s veins like ice; she bolted upright and scrambled to her feet, as did pretty much everyone else. The tiny tent couldn’t handle the sudden motion and it collapsed, poles and tarp wrapping around them. Beca fought against the material, flailing to get free. She hit someone by accident; a sharp breath of surprise told her it was Lilly. Barking out an apology, she twisted, stumbled forward, and fell flat on her stomach on the forest floor, free of the confines of the tent.

She was on her feet instantly, heart pounding in her ears and head swiveling in search of Amy. Nothing. Legs trembling, she jogged first one way, then the other, marking a semi-circle around the collapsed pile of canvas and Bellas. She scanned the dark woods desperately, and as more Bellas extracted themselves from the melee, they joined her frantic search.

“Amy?”

“Amy!”

“ _Amy_!”

Their voices rang out, muted by the trees and suffocating mist. Beca continued her frenzied jogging, stumbling through the underbrush. Amy couldn’t have been far, she couldn’t have been hurt, she’d just tripped and fallen or seen a squirrel or… Beca’s eyes were drawn to the empty pool.

The overhead light flickered worse than ever, fallen leaves drifting down and into it playing tricks on her eyes. Beca swallowed hard. Ghosts weren’t real. Amy was just hiding, playing a trick on them. But that scream had sounded so real… she took one step toward the empty pool.

“Wait, Bec,” Chloe was next to her instantly, hand on her arm. “Don’t you go wandering off.”

“But we have to find her!” Beca fired back, her worry for Amy increasing by the second.

“I know, but don’t go alone just in case – let’s split up, go in groups,” Chloe urged, turning away to address the Bellas, all finally free of the tent.

Beca stared at the back of Chloe’s head; what had she been about to say? Surely, Chloe didn’t believe in the ghost story?

Before she could ask, though, the other Bellas were nodding determinedly and splitting off in pairs and threes: Stacie with Flo; Cynthia-Rose, Emily, and Lilly; and Ashly and Jessica.

“Stay close!” Beca called out to their retreating backs. “If you find her, let us know right away!”

“I guess that leaves us,” Chloe said, turning to Beca.

“I suppose so,” Beca agreed, relieved; she’d rather have Chloe stay with her, where she knew she was safe.

They moved away from the tent, taking a direction none of the others had. They left the clearing and, with one backward glance, Beca took the first step into forest. Almost immediately, the sound around them muted, the trees taking them away from civilization as they moved further and further into the wood. They’d been walking for only a short time when Beca’s foot caught on a branch and she lurched to a stop.

“I’m so stupid,” Chloe groaned, dropping to tug at the branch around Beca’s foot. “I shouldn’t have split us up. None of us have flashlights or anything. We should have gone for Aubrey or David.”

“Yeah, Chippy could have helped,” Beca said extremely dryly. “There’s no time. Amy sounded like she was being attacked.”

With a huge effort and help from Chloe, Beca yanked her foot free.

“We’ll find her,” Chloe insisted, sounding much braver than Beca felt. The voices of the others, still calling for Amy, were starting to fade in the oppressive darkness.

They continued on their path, stopping occasionally to unhook themselves from foliage. Beca didn’t like it at all. It was darker than ever, and though her eyes had adjusted, she could barely see. The others’ calls had faded away, until all she could hear was Chloe’s labored breathing and her own heartbeat.

Something snapped a twig up ahead.

“Amy!” Beca called instantly. “Amy, is that –”

Chloe’s hand clamped down over her mouth, sending her staggering in surprise. She tried to protest, only to have Chloe shush her harshly.

“I don’t think that’s Amy,” Chloe whispered frantically in her ear. “Shut up and listen for a sec.”

Beca froze instantly; she’d never heard Chloe sound so scared. Slowly, ready to stop her if she yelled again, Chloe’s hand eased away from her mouth. Under any other circumstance, Beca would have been annoyed and would have shouted again out of spite, but instead she stood stock-still, ears straining for anything.

Nothing.

After several moments, Beca hissed under her breath, “What makes you think that’s not Amy?”

Chloe’s rapid breaths appeared next to her ear. “It was weird, I don’t know, let’s just g…”

The rest of Chloe’s sentence trailed off as a soft sound reached both their ears. It was subtle, just a rustling of leaves on the ground, the snapping of small twigs as if underfoot. If Chloe hadn’t pointed it out, she never would have noticed it. Beca’s breath caught in her throat; it was, unmistakably, the sound of soft footsteps, but altered somehow, as if something was being dragged along.

Chloe’s hands wrapped around her arm, clinging to her. Beca winced at the strength of the grip but didn’t shake it off. She stood frozen, completely unsure of what to do. If they ran, whatever the hell it was would hear them. If they stayed, it would find them.

The sound moved closer. Chloe’s grip on her arm tightened still further. Beca wanted to comfort her somehow but didn’t know how to do so silently. Her eyes bored into the darkness, waiting for the first glimpse of… whatever it was. Her heart raced, so quickly she was sure it was about to leap from her chest. The sound of footsteps drew even nearer, until she was sure she’d see their source any second. Oh God. They were going to get nabbed and murdered in the woods by a freaky ghost and no one would ever find their bodies and –

“She’s here!”

“We found her!”

Cynthia-Rose and Emily’s voices cut through the silence, much closer than expected. Beca jerked, startled, as did Chloe with a small shriek. The strange sounds stopped instantly.

“Bec, let’s go,” Chloe whispered urgently, tugging on her arm and walking backward, away from the noise.

“I… yeah,” Beca breathed back, not wanting to take her eyes from the darkness ahead of them, in case someone – or something – appeared. She allowed Chloe to lead her backward, until she was sure nothing was following them. Once she figured they were safe, she twisted around and they half-jogged back to where they’d split off from the other Bellas in the clearing, thistles and branches snagging their clothes.

Finally, though, they fought their way through the thicket and stumbled back to the others. Beca immediately sought out Amy, relief flooding her chest when she saw her sitting on the ground between Cynthia-Rose, Emily, and Lilly. Stacie and Flo were there as well, already waiting for them.

“What the hell happened, Amy?” Beca fired out, nerves still on edge from the woods.

“Yeah, why did you scream?” Chloe asked, brows furrowed.

Amy opened her mouth to reply, but Beca interrupted, “I mean, Jesus Christ, we thought you’d been stabbed or something, but here you are, all –” she cut off abruptly, only then noticing the pain on Amy’s expression as she held her right ankle.

“Are you okay?”

“Um, I think I busted my ankle pretty bad when I fell in the hole,” Amy said through gritted teeth.

“What hole?” Stacie asked, confusion lacing her tone.

Cynthia-Rose gestured toward the woods off to the side of the tent. “We found her in some weird big hole in the ground, like some kind of… hunting pit.”

“It took the three of us to help her out,” Emily added, looking between Cynthia-Rose and Lilly.

“What do you mean ‘hunting pit’? Like, actual, big pit? Like, can’t-climb-out-of pit?” Beca asked incredulously. That was like something from a movie.

Amy nodded, grimacing. “Yep. Just like that. I finished dropping the kids off at the pool” – Flo cringed and shuddered – “and when I took a step to head back to the tent, I fell right in. Didn’t see anything weird until it was too late.”

“Was it too dark?” Chloe asked.

“It was more like the hole was covered up until I stepped there,” Amy said. “It was messed up. I screamed a lot.”

“We heard that part,” Beca said impatiently. “Why didn’t you yell for us?”

“Because,” Amy said, looking her in the eye, “I stood up, and I couldn’t reach the top but I could see out of it, and there was someone there. Looking down in at me.”

“What?” Stacie asked shrilly. “Who?”

Amy shrugged. “Dunno. It was dark. All I could see was that they were big and their head looked weird. They looked at me, but then ran off when you lot started plundering around. Then, those three” – she pointed to Cynthia-Rose, Emily, and Lilly – “found me pretty quick and helped my sexy ass up.”

Beca could feel her blood pressure rising. If that was true, and Amy hadn’t been seeing things… that, combined with the footsteps she and Chloe had heard…

“Are you sure it wasn’t a deer?” Chloe asked skeptically. “If it was a person, why wouldn’t they have helped you up?”

“Maybe because they dug the hole,” Lilly whispered.

They all stared at her. Beca could feel the panic rising in her throat but fought for control. No way. If there was some kind of creep digging holes for them to fall into and stalking them in the woods, she was done.

A slamming door made them all jump; Beca looked around to see David striding toward them, the light by the empty pool throwing him into sharp relief; for some reason, he was shirtless. She heard Chloe inhale sharply from beside her and rolled her eyes.

“Everyone okay?” David asked, his eyes roving over them. “What happened to the tent?”

“Long story,” Beca said, cutting off Chloe, who’d opened her mouth. “Amy’s hurt her ankle falling in a hole.”

David immediately dropped to a kneel beside her, raising her pajama pant leg to see her ankle. After only a moment’s examination, he said pompously, “Yep, that’s a sprain. You’re going to need a boot for that. We’ve got one in the cabin.”

“Why do you have that?” Flo asked.

“In case of emergency,” David said. “Can I help you to the cabin?” he asked Amy.

She nodded, and he helped her rise to stand on one foot, one arm wrapped over his shoulder for support.

“Wow, you really know your stuff,” Chloe said in a much higher pitch than usual, her eyes firmly fixed on David’s sculpted chest.

Beca was positively seething. Stupid David and his stupid chest.

David started leading Amy to the lodge, then stopped and glanced back at Beca. “Don’t you have two more?” he asked.

Beca paused, bewildered. Two more? Two more _what?_

Then Chloe gasped, hand flying to her mouth as her eyes widened.

That’s when it hit Beca, like a brick falling into her stomach; Ashley and Jessica hadn’t come back from the woods.

* * *

They had searched the woods for more than two hours. Aubrey, David, and Paris had helped, arming them all with flashlights and giving them strict instructions to stay within earshot at all times. Beca appreciated the help, but she really didn’t think Chippy – with his own mini-flashlight – had to be there, but Aubrey had held onto the puppet the entire time. David, annoyingly, remained shirtless, and Paris, disappointingly, kept her shirt on.

After two hours of stumbling around in the woods and yelling for Ashley and Jessica to no avail, they’d decided to call it a night. Beca hated giving up – she kind of despised herself for it – but they weren’t getting anywhere in the dark and the thought of losing anyone else to the woods had been terrifying. So, reluctantly, they’d turned off their flashlights and headed back to the lodge.

Amy had been given a boot for her ankle and a wheelchair that Aubrey had conveniently stored away “because you never know what might happen,” she’d said imperiously. Rather than joining in on the search, Amy had sat in the wheelchair at an upstairs window in Aubrey’s lodge, keeping an eye on things from above. The whole thing had reminded Beca of some movie Jesse had once made her watch.

Thankfully, they all planned on spending the rest of the night in the lodge; Aubrey, seeing the state of their tent and considering that two people were missing, allowed them to cram into two guest bedrooms in the lodge. Why this hadn’t been the arrangement from the start, Beca had no idea, but she’d been too tired to call Aubrey out on it.

She, Chloe, Lilly, and Emily had taken one room, while Cynthia-Rose, Amy, Flo, and Stacie had taken the other. Unfortunately, there’d only been one bed in each room. Lilly had whispered something about sleeping upside down and Emily had – after shouting down Chloe’s protests – curled up on the floor in her sleeping bag, falling asleep instantly. That left the bed to Beca and Chloe.

Beca shifted uncomfortably, careful not to brush against Chloe. It wasn’t the first time they’d shared a bed – far from it – but it was the first time they’d done it with so much weird tension between them. Beca knew a lot of it was due to their missing friends, but if she was honest with herself, she and Chloe had been walking on eggshells for weeks. Ever since she and Jesse broke up, really.

She hated it and settled for glaring at the ceiling in frustration.

She could tell from Chloe’s too-quiet breathing that she was still awake, just not talking. Beca shifted again. Any other time, she’d be happy to share a bed with Chloe, even secretly delighted by it, but this was different.

Desperate to break the silence, Beca whispered softly (so as not to wake Emily), “Do you think they’re okay?” She knew Chloe would know who she was talking about.

Sure enough, Chloe breathed back, “I hope so. I don’t know. Maybe they just, like, wandered off and fell asleep somewhere?”

Beca had to stop herself from snorting. There was no way Ashley and Jessica would just wander away and pass out, especially if a two-hour-long search party didn’t find them. No. They were gone. They’d been taken by someone. _Or something_ , a small voice whispered in Beca’s mind before she could stop it.

“I want to go home,” Beca heard herself say, then winced; she hadn’t really meant that to slip out sounding so whiny.

Chloe sighed and whispered, so quietly that Beca barely heard her, “Will that really solve anything?”

“What?” Beca snapped her head around to stare at Chloe. Chloe didn’t look back at her though, instead staring upward toward the ceiling.

“Nothing,” she finally said, bringing a hand up to rub tiredly at her eyes.

For some reason, that sent anger crashing through Beca. How dare Chloe be tired? How dare she say cryptic things like that when it was her fault they were even at this stupid retreat that had injured Amy and stolen Ashley and Jessica?

“Chlo,” Beca said, hearing the tightness in her own tone, “it’s creepy here. We need to find Ashley and Jessica and get the fuck out.”

“Beca…” Chloe trailed off, still rubbing her eyes.

“What?” Beca spit out, her body tensing in anticipation of a fight. She was done with this whole stupid retreat. They never should have come here.

She hadn’t anticipated Chloe to pause and create a gaping silence between them. It stretched on, until Beca stopped wondering what Chloe was going to fire back at her and started wondering if she’d fallen asleep. But then –

“We need this retreat.”

The finality in Chloe’s tone drained the fight from Beca. Instead, her secret internship flashed through her mind, immediately followed by a flood of guilt. She shoved that down immediately, though, her fears for Ashley and Jessica returning full-force.

“Chloe,” she started firmly, trying to keep her voice even. “Ashley and Jessica are missing. Amy is hurt. We can’t call anyone for help, and all this weird shit keeps happening, like Aubrey’s freaky doll and that hole Amy fell in and those footsteps we heard –”

“We don’t know those were footsteps,” Chloe interrupted.

Beca twisted to her side and stared hard at Chloe, gaping. “ _Seriously?_ ” she hissed. “Chloe –”

“We could have imagined them,” Chloe insisted, refusing to look Beca in the eye.

Beca shook her head and fired back, “Come on, you know we didn’t _imagine_ anything.”

Finally, Chloe twisted to look at Beca for the first time since crawling into bed together. “Look,” she said firmly, “we can’t do anything until morning anyway. And we need this retreat.”

“You keep saying that!” Beca whisper-yelled back, struggling not to wake Emily. “Are you sure it’s not just _you_ who needs this retreat?”

“Don’t do that,” Chloe said instantly, anger edging into her voice for the first time. “Don’t make this about me. We wouldn’t even be here if you weren’t –”

She stopped abruptly, returning her gaze to the ceiling.

Beca mouthed wordlessly at her, the words Chloe hadn’t said reverberating around her brain.

“Weren’t what?” she eventually choked out. “So it’s my fault now?”

“Good night, Beca,” Chloe sighed, refusing to answer her.

“You can’t just –”

“Good night.”

Beca stared at her in shock, but Chloe didn’t move. With an impatient huff, she rolled onto her back again, fuming. She was tired of arguing with Chloe, confused about how they’d even gotten to this point, and hurt that Chloe had shut her out like that. It had never happened before.

Above all else, though, she was scared. Where were Ashley and Jessica? And what was going to happen to the rest of them?


	3. Laundry Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brief, non-graphic mention of blood. Things are getting a little more intense, heads up.

“Beca. Wake up, Beca. It’s time to get up.”

“Nooooo…”

“Yes, I’m sorry. It’s Aubrey’s rules, and I don’t wanna get yelled at again.”

Beca cracked open one eye, wincing at even the small amount of light in the room. Emily’s anxious face was looming above her, much too close for comfort. To avoid thinking about it, Beca looked to the side, expecting to see flowing red hair on the pillow next to her. However, Chloe was already gone.

“Chloe’s downstairs. Everyone is,” Emily said far too loudly for Beca’s liking.

“What? What time is it?” Beca asked blearily, blinking to clear her eyes and wondering why Chloe hadn’t woken her up when she’d left.

“It’s almost seven,” Emily said guilty, backing slowly away from the bed as if she thought Beca might attack her.

Beca glared, her annoyance spiking. No one should have to be awake at that ungodly hour. “Emily, why the fu –”

“I’m sorry!” Emily squeaked, raising her hands defensively as she backed out of the room. “Aubrey’s orders!”

Beca heard herself growl, and she reached for Chloe’s pillow to fling at the youngest Bella, but Emily had already whisked out the door, letting it slam. Beca fell back against her pillow with a groan, rubbing her eyes and hating her entire existence. It was stupidly early, Chloe was gone, Amy was hurt, and Ashley and Jessica were still missing.

Ashley and Jessica. Shit.

The memory of their disappearance dragged Beca’s body from bed; she figured Aubrey was organizing a search party or something in the daylight, which, okay, smart. Keeping her eyes half-closed to protect them for as long as possible, Beca changed from her pajamas into denim shorts and a blue T-shirt. She wasn’t sure what else to wear on a search party, but she hadn’t packed much else. 

She stumbled down the steps (God, she hated mornings) and into the kitchen of Aubrey’s lodge, which somehow looked even more dingy and gloomy in the early morning light. Thankfully, there was a huge pile of granola bars on the counter, obviously meant as her breakfast. She grabbed two, unwrapping one and biting into it immediately, and slid the other into a pocket for later. Glancing around the lodge, she didn’t see anyone hanging around and figured they were all outside, gearing up for the search.

Tossing her granola bar wrapper in the trash, Beca spared only a glance at the knife block still missing its chef knife and at the mirror facing the wall before stepping out the front door of the lodge, shivering at the unseasonable chill. She expected to see a full search party assembled, perhaps with police and rescue dogs. That was not the case; instead, the Bellas stood in a sort of semi-circle facing Aubrey, who had her back to Beca.

At Beca’s approach, Aubrey turned around sharply to glare at her. Beca had to do a double-take; Aubrey looked rough. Her eyes were bloodshot, with massive, dark bags under them as if she hadn’t slept. Her hair was lank and messy, and she seemed to be wearing the same outfit as she had the day before. She still clutched Chippy, who had been dressed in a crisp new outfit, his painted features more alarmingly life-like than ever.

“Thank you for joining us, Beca,” Aubrey said, her voice clipped and formal.

Beca cleared her throat, recovering from the shock of Aubrey’s appearance.

“Yeah… so, are we meeting the police here, or…?” she gestured vaguely.

“No police,” Aubrey said firmly. “No need for that.”

Beca felt her eyebrows shoot up. Aubrey had lost her mind; of course they needed the police.

“Uh, dude, we really could use –”

Aubrey delicately lifted Chippy’s little wooden arm, bringing Beca to a horrified, stuttering halt. “We do not believe in law enforcement during team building,” she said clearly. “And besides. There’s no cell service.”

Beca stared, stunned by the display. She glanced up and saw Cynthia-Rose staring back at her, clearly as repulsed by the puppet as she was.

Aubrey let Chippy’s arm fall but held tight to his hand as she continued, “It is time for some vocal warm-ups before you run the Obstacle Course of Bonding and Friendship.”

Beca choked a little. She looked beyond Aubrey to gauge the others’ reactions. They didn’t appear surprised, so she figured Aubrey must have already given them the day’s agenda. Emily and Lilly looked sympathetic, Stacie and Flo stared uncomfortably at their own feet, Cynthia-Rose stared at Chippy in disgust, and Chloe gazed back at Beca, her expression pleading. A weird tapping noise made Beca turn to the house, and she saw Amy staring down at them all from the second floor, seated in her wheelchair at the window, bag of popcorn (where the hell did she get that?) in hand.

Whirling back to Aubrey, Beca said with a forced calm, “Aubrey. Two people are missing. Our _friends_ are missing. You know that, right?”

She again looked at Chloe, who shifted her weight and looked away, her arms crossing over her chest.

“This is just an exercise in finding harmony, Beca,” Aubrey said, an edge to her voice. “Sometimes you have to break things down before you can build them back up.”

Beca threw her hands up in frustration, shouting, “We’ve got more important things to do!”

“Oh, what could be more important than this?” Chloe jumped in suddenly, glaring at Beca.

Hardly believing her ears, Beca droned sarcastically, “Hmm, I don’t know, Chloe, maybe… finding Ashley and Jessica and getting out of this hell?”

Dimly, she registered the other Bellas backing away slowly from their raised voices, but Beca didn’t care. She was tired of Chloe acting like she didn’t care about Ashley and Jessica, tired of Chloe constantly giving her the cold shoulder, tired of not having her best friend in her life. The resentment she’d been feeling toward Chloe ever since her breakup with Jesse was boiling over and bursting free.

“Well,” Chloe spit back at her, “did you ever think that we’re only here because of you?”

“ _What?_ ” Beca hissed, furious. If it was anyone’s fault, it was Chloe’s for suggesting the retreat in the first place. Before she could say that, though, Chloe cut her off.

“No, you don’t think that we haven’t all realized you’ve been a little checked out lately?” she said harshly. “If you weren’t off doing God-knows-what all the time and actually paid attention to us, we never would have had to come here, and Ashley and Jessica wouldn’t be missing!”

_Oh. The internship. Shit._

“God, that’s why you’ve been acting so weird? Because you’re pissed at me for not being around?” Beca groaned, exasperated. She hadn’t realized she’d been that obvious.

“ _Yes!_ ” Chloe exploded violently, throwing her hands up. “Don’t you get it? I’m trying to fix us, and you don’t seem to care about that at all! What the hell is going on? Who are you always sneaking off to?”

“Girl fight!” Cynthia-Rose called out from the side, but Beca barely heard her. Was that seriously what Chloe was worried about?

“What, you think I’ve been seeing someone?” Beca laughed, ignoring Chloe’s flinch and sudden break in eye contact. “Okay, you know what?” _She’d just have to come clean._

With a deep breath, Beca explained, “I’ve been interning at a recording studio and a legit music producer wants to hear my work.”

“Well that’s – oh.” Chloe stopped herself, her eyes widening in surprise as she absorbed what Beca said. She looked down at her feet, suddenly quiet and contrite, and Beca felt the tension draining away from the situation. She exhaled shakily in quiet relief; she hated arguing with Chloe.

Chloe looked back up and said softly, “Why would you keep something like that from us?”

Beca shrugged one shoulder and replied, “Because you’re – I didn’t want to distract you.”

She’d been close to saying “you’re obsessed,” but she didn’t think that would go over too well, and didn’t want the shouting match to resume.

Chloe nodded thoughtfully, but said quietly, “I still wish you could have told me. That’s really cool Bec.”

“I… yeah,” Beca sighed, swiping a hand over her face tiredly. “I should have.”

When she looked up again, Chloe was smiling at her gently, as though they’d never fought. She opened her mouth, and Beca knew Chloe was about to apologize, but she realized that she didn’t need to hear it.

Before Chloe could say anything, Beca rushed out, “There, I said it, it’s fine. Now, can you stop acting so weird all the time and help me find our friends?” She made sure to keep her tone light and joking, desperate not to mess up the repair in their friendship.

With a small smile, Chloe glanced at the other Bellas and Aubrey (and Chippy) before saying, “Yeah. Definitely. Let’s find them.”

They turned to face the other Bellas, all of whom had been standing nearby and blatantly staring during their fight. Aubrey had her back to them all and appeared to be whispering to Chippy, who was cradled in her arms. Beca glanced up at the lodge window; Amy waved down at her, the bag of popcorn half-empty already.

“You two kiss and make up?” Cynthia-Rose asked with a self-satisfied grin.

“Yeah, there’s so much sexual tension here, you could cut it with a knife,” Stacie purred (rather unnecessarily in Beca’s opinion).

Beca’s stomach fluttered and she felt her face warm. She opened her mouth, ready to deliver a sharp retort – of some kind, probably – but Chloe interjected before she could.

“Yeah, yeah,” she said, casually waving a hand. “We’re good. Let’s find Ashley and Jessica!”

“Finally,” Flo mumbled. “In my country, if someone has been missing this long, we just say they’ve been eaten by jaguars and move on.”

“Oh my God,” Emily squeaked. “You don’t think that’s what happened?”

Beca couldn’t resist rolling her eyes. “No, Legacy,” she said, “that’s not what happened. We just need to go for the police like I said earlier. Whether Aubrey” – she pointed to Aubrey’s turned back – “believes in the police or not.”

Aubrey whipped around so quickly that Chippy’s arms flapped. “I told you. No cell service, no cops.”

“But we can drive and get them,” Beca insisted, crossing her arms.

“No.”

It wasn’t Aubrey, but David; he stepped out from the lodge, Paris following right behind him. Without really meaning to, Beca glanced at Chloe and was momentarily pleased to see she looked affronted by his appearance. The next instant, though, she sent him a welcoming smile that made Beca’s stomach hurt.

“We’ll find your friends ourselves,” Paris added, her eyes lingering on Beca. “We can’t risk the camp getting shut down.”

Stacie glared at her and said slowly, “They were attacked. I think we have bigger things to worry about.”

Aubrey laughed loudly, making Beca jump and whirl; in the time they’d spent talking to David and Paris, Aubrey had moved to stand directly behind Beca.

“Attacked?” Aubrey said doubtfully in a high-pitched voice as Beca stumbled away from her. “More like they got lost and wandered off.”

“Um, what about that freaky hole in the ground?” Cynthia-Rose asked loudly. “Don’t tell me that wasn’t anything. It took three of us to pull Amy out.”

“Yeah, and we heard weird footsteps,” Chloe added, looking to Beca for support. Beca nodded back, grateful that Chloe was supporting their story again.

David and Paris glanced at each other, brows furrowed. Aubrey, however, pressed her lips together and ran two fingers over the crown of Chippy’s head as though smoothing his hair.

“Who would have attacked them?” she said through gritted teeth. “We’re alone here.”

Lilly raised her hand suddenly. “What if the ghost did it?” she whispered.

Beca’s stomach tightened as the Bellas all started talking over each other. She didn’t think she believed in ghosts – not really, anyway – but she still didn’t at all fancy the idea of one roaming around kidnapping (ghostnapping?) her friends. Amid the frenzied conversation around her, she caught a glimpse of Aubrey’s face, which for the first time was drawn tight with anxiety. However, the moment passed and Aubrey was soon yelling over them for attention.

“Bellas! Ladies, please!” she shouted, silencing them immediately. She raised a hand to rub at her eyes before continuing. “Tell you what – let’s split up and look for them. Then, if we still can’t find them, we go to the police. Okay?”

Beca glanced around; the others nodded their agreement, looking determined. Lilly pulled a knife out of nowhere, looking incredibly pleased about it. Flo saw her, winced, and moved to stand between Stacie and Cynthia-Rose.

“I… okay,” Beca agreed, knowing that the compromise was as good as it was going to get with Aubrey.

“How’re we going to split up?” Chloe asked, glancing at Beca.

Paris stepped forward and wrapped her arm around Beca’s shoulders. “Dibs on Beca!” she called out, for some reason looking directly at Chloe.

Beca’s brain turned to mush. A confused mush. What did that even mean? And Paris’s arm around her shoulders wasn’t helping her think.

God, her perfume smelled amazing.

“I’m with Beca, too,” Chloe said in a rush, moving in to smoosh herself against Beca’s other side.

Beca felt like she was dying.

Cynthia-Rose and Stacie both smirked, which didn’t help.

“I’m with these two,” David said with a smile to Emily and Lilly. Beca blinked, surprised that he hadn’t joined her, Paris, and Chloe. She risked a look at Chloe, expecting her to be disappointed, but Chloe was too busy giving Paris the side-eye that she hadn’t seemed to notice David.

Beca was incredibly confused.

“That leaves us, then,” Aubrey said briskly to Stacie, Flo, and Cynthia-Rose. “And Chippy, of course.”

Cynthia-Rose’s eyes flicked down to the marionette and she visibly cringed. Beca didn’t blame her.

“I’ll stay here and keep an eye on you twig bitches!” Amy called, loudly enough to be heard from the filthy window of the lodge.

“Thanks, Amy,” Beca managed, awkwardly extracting herself from between the two most beautiful women on the planet. She’d been starting to get sweaty, despite the unnatural chill in the air.

“Right, so, we’re gonna do this?” Emily asked, noticeably nervous.

“Yep,” said Stacie determinedly, though her hands were trembling.

“Stay in earshot,” Aubrey ordered, “And if you don’t find anything, meet back here in T-minus two hours. Don’t be late.”

A coyote howled in the distance.

“Wanna bring your shotgun?” Cynthia-Rose muttered, though Aubrey appeared not to hear her.

“Okay, team, break on three!” Chloe cheered.

“On three or af –”

“Let’s go,” Beca said before Stacie could finish her question. They were wasting time. “Everyone be careful.”

She watched as Aubrey took Chippy, Flo, Stacie, and Cynthia-Rose toward the woods to the right of the cabins. David, Emily, and Lilly went straight out from the cabins to walk along the road and woods there. Her heart plummeted; that left…

“To the pool?” Paris suggested.

Beca grimaced. She’d been afraid of that.

“Fine,” Chloe agreed stiffly.

Together, they turned and started toward the empty pool, every step closer making Beca’s heart thud more painfully against her ribs. The pool had always unnerved her, but she hadn’t realized just how much until forced to walk toward it in search of her missing friends that a ghost may or may not have spirited away. Or, if not a ghost, something else.

It wasn’t great.

It didn’t help that an awkward silence had fallen over the three of them as they walked. Beca didn’t like it; she could hear every step they took on the fallen leaves and small twigs, every breath Chloe took, every swish of Paris’s long hair as she walked. They moved further and further from the clearing, the sounds of the others’ footsteps fading away unnaturally quickly, until they were blanketed in the dense quiet of the forest around them.

The fog rolled in, seeping out of the woods and coating the grounds of the retreat. The mist swirled around them, thickening rather than dissipating in the daylight, and several times, Beca thought she saw someone moving toward them, only to realize the fog was playing tricks on her. She shivered, again feeling the weight of eyes on her back. The whole “someone is watching” schtick was getting old fast, but she couldn’t shake it.

“Could they have gone in the cabins?” Chloe broke the quiet suddenly, her voice loud in the eerie fog. Beca glanced to her right at the line of four abandoned cabins dotting the path to the pool, taking in their decrepit and creepy state. Her skin crawled and the hair on her arms stood up.

 “I doubt it,” Paris said. “They’re in rough shape.”

“But it doesn’t hurt to check,” Chloe replied, an edge to her voice.

Paris sighed, then replied just as testily, “If you want to fall through a rotted wooden floor, be my guest.”

“We have to be thorough,” Chloe insisted stubbornly.

“Beca, what do you think?”

“Yeah, Bec?”

Oh God.

Beca didn’t like being between them at all. The way they both looked at her made her feel like she was making a much larger choice than whether or not to look around some creepy cabins for Ashley and Jessica.

“I mean,” she managed, pleased that she at least hadn’t made some embarrassing squeaking noise, “we could peek in them? Like, just poke our heads in?”

Thankfully, that seemed to satisfy both Paris and Chloe, who stubbornly refused to look at each other. Beca did her best to shrink into herself, though she wasn’t sure it worked.

They made their way to the first and nearest cabin. As they drew closer, Beca wondered if perhaps they _should_ have just skipped the cabins. The grimy, broken windows, dark interior, missing shingles, crooked foundation, and rotted wooden steps were wholly uninviting during the day, and she had a hard time imagining that Ashely and Jessica would seek refuge in them at night.

Nevertheless, they moved to the first cabin’s door, carefully picking their way up the spongy steps. Beca was on edge, her heart pounding as she constantly stared around for any movement.

When Chloe gasped at a large spider on the wall, she nearly jumped out of her skin.

“Sorry,” Chloe whispered.

Paris rolled her eyes and reached for the door handle.

The cabins should have been locked. Beca hadn’t really thought about it, but they should not have been able to enter the derelict building. She was surprised, then, when the door swung open with relative ease and a soft groan like an exhale. She glanced up, making sure that the ancient structure wasn’t about to collapse on top of them.

A rush of fetid air from the interior of the building made her wrinkle her nose; it smelled of mold, dust, and decay, as though some animal had died in there years and years ago. The place looked even worse on the inside; what little light filtered through the filthy windows revealed holes in the floorboards, torn and moldy furniture still in place, and a collapsed fireplace on the far wall. As in Aubrey’s lodge, the mirrors on the walls were turned so that the glass faced inward.

There was very obviously no one there; Beca wouldn’t be surprised if no one had set foot in the cabin since the retreat closed twenty years ago.

Nevertheless, Chloe called tentatively into the dark interior, “Ashley? Jessica?”

There was no reply.

“Happy?” Paris asked, though her voice quivered slightly.

“Not really,” Chloe whispered.

Beca privately agreed.

“Let’s go,” she muttered, not at all liking the eerie feeling of the cabin.

Paris pulled the door shut again with a damp thud, and they wasted no time in making their way down the steps, careful to avoid the sagging, rotted sections.

Similarly, they approached the other three cabins, on high alert for any sign of movement from within.

The second didn’t have a front door, but rather was boarded up, a series of warped two-by-fours crisscrossing over the main entrance. They walked around the exterior checking the windows, but there weren’t any big enough holes in the glass for someone to have crawled through to get into the cabin that way. It would have been impossible for anyone to get inside.

The third cabin was open like the first had been, but when Paris opened the door, there was something waiting for them inside. Beca couldn’t stop herself from shrieking and jumping back when a pair of big, dark eyes met hers; Chloe only just grabbed her arm in time to save her from toppling own the front steps.

“Calm down!” Paris hissed. “It’s just a raccoon.”

Beca took a second look, and sure enough, the eyes she’d seen belonged to a small gray body with a fluffy tail. The animal bared its teeth at them but stayed put, burrowing into a couch.

Duh. Beca should have expected some animals to be living there, really.

That didn’t keep her legs from trembling beneath her.

Chloe again called for Ashely and Jessica to no avail. The sound of her voice didn’t seem to bother the raccoon at all, which, wasn’t that weird behavior for animals? Shouldn’t it have been scared of them? Instead, it only glared at them with those same beady eyes, as if berating them for disturbing its peace.

Beca was beyond relieved to leave that cabin and its inhabitant behind. However, they still had one left to check before making their way to the empty pool.

Beca swallowed.

Her eyes flicked between the concrete pool and the last cabin.

She wished Chloe would say something.

Or maybe Paris.

Anything to drown out the sound of her own frantic pulse.

They approached the fourth cabin cautiously, Beca glancing over her shoulder at the ever-darkening woods, positive she could feel eyes on her back, though they’d lost sight of the others long ago.

She, Chloe, and Paris again navigated the rotting wooden steps, avoiding what would almost certainly be a broken ankle should they make one mistake and fall through the stairs. They reached the front door and paused, Beca’s ears straining to hear any sign of life.

This time, she heard something.

Her heart stopped.

“Uh…”

“You’re hearing that?” Chloe whispered frantically, her eyebrows shooting up toward her hairline.

Paris nodded, frowning.

Beca reluctantly stepped closer to the door, listening with all her might. Whatever it was didn’t sound human; it was more of a rhythmic, electric whirring noise.

Chloe reached bravely toward the door handle, which turned with a click to let them into the cabin. The whirring became louder, and Beca realized it had to be coming from some kind of running appliance. Chloe cast a triumphant look over her shoulder at Paris before taking the first step into the cabin.

Beca followed slowly, eyes on the floor. Unlike the other cabins, however, the floor seemed more stable, though the furniture was no less musty, and there was yet another mirror turned to the wall.

Hope fluttered in Beca’s chest as she looked around carefully, searching for any sign that Ashley or Jessica might have gone in there. Someone obviously had been in the cabin recently, if there was a running appliance.

Paris stepped over the threshold behind them, and they made their way further into the room, heads turning in search of the noise. Movement caught Beca’s eye and she stared into a dim corner, finally making out the source of the whirring, which came from a small, front-loading washing machine. It was clearly nearing the end of its spin cycle. Only a few articles of clothing were visible through the scratched window, but she couldn’t quite make them out.

There was no dryer in sight.

“Guys, look,” she said, gesturing Chloe and Paris over and pointing to the washer.

“That’s not possible,” Paris said, her voice strained. “This cabin is supposed to be defunct. Aubrey said.”

“Well, what the fuck is that, then?” Beca asked, her nerves frayed. She didn’t like it.

Who would start a load of laundry in some old, abandoned – or supposed to be – cabin?

“Ashley? Jessica?” Chloe called out loudly, twisting and turning for any sign of them.

Nothing.

The cabin was silent apart from the sloshing of the washer and the sound of their heartbeats.

“What’s in it?” Paris asked quietly.

“Dunno,” Beca shrugged.

“Open it,” Paris urged.

Beca hesitated; she could think of about a million things she’d rather do, including running away or hugging a porcupine. Anything sounded better than approaching the washer, though she couldn’t really explain why.

“Bec, don’t,” Chloe whispered, shaking her head frantically. “It doesn’t feel right.”

Beca looked back at the washer, thinking.

What was the worst that could happen, really? It was just a washer. And opening it might make her seem brave in front of Chloe and Paris… she made her decision.

She stepped forward gingerly, ignoring Chloe’s small whimper of fear.

She stood beside the washer, put her hand on the door’s latch, and prepared to tug it open. She was sure it wasn’t locked; the thing looked older than her grandma, and probably didn’t come equipped with safety features.

The air around them quivered with anticipation.

Beca realized she was holding her breath.

Before she could change her mind, Beca gave a mighty tug on the door, flinging it open and causing some of the contents to spill out onto the floor along with a fair bit of water. For a moment, Beca stared at the mess, worried about cleaning up after themselves, until she caught sight of the clothing.

An achingly familiar patterned T-shirt lay in a soggy heap.

She recognized it in a heartbeat; it was Jessica’s.

And it was caked in blood.

Paris’s scream ripped through the air. Chloe was on her in an instant, basically tackling Paris and clamping a hand over her mouth like she had to Beca the night before in the woods.

“Shut up!” she whispered harshly, her eyes still on the shirt on the floor. “He’ll hear us!”

Beca’s brain felt like it was running on molasses. He? He who? She glanced between the shirt and Chloe, who looked utterly terrified even as she held a hand over Paris’s mouth. Nausea rolled Beca’s stomach and she drew a deep breath through her nose. Chloe’s eyes locked onto hers and understanding hit her like a bolt of lightning.

Jessica and Ashley were missing. They weren’t in the cabin. Jessica’s shirt – as well as the rest of their clothes, Beca noted as she stared at the washer – _was_ in the cabin. That was most definitely blood. Someone had put the clothes there. Someone was trying to clean up and hide it. Someone had done this.

Or something.

The retreat was haunted. The camp counselor.

Charles.

Shit.

Before Beca could so much as open her mouth, a series of deep shouts came from outside: David. She and Chloe exchanged a look and Chloe released Paris with a muttered apology. Without a second glance at the clothing on the floor, they rushed out of the cabin, leaping over the hazardous steps out front.

“David!” Paris cried as they ran. “David, where are you?”

The shouts continued, emanating from the woods but drawing nearer by the second. They sprinted to the clearing at Aubrey’s lodge where they’d initially split up, Paris in the lead with Beca and Chloe right behind. They were there in less than a minute, Beca’s legs burning and Chloe puffing next to her.

With one final shout, David came crashing out of the woods, panting, dirt streaked all over his clothes and a dark line of something trickling down the side of his face.

He was alone.

“Wh-where are Emily and Lilly?” Chloe panted, her eyes focused on the woods behind David as if waiting for them to emerge.

They did not.

David doubled over, his hands on his knees as he gasped for breath. Beca wanted to reach forward, shake him, and demand to know where their friends were, but she managed to restrain herself, hands twitching as David eventually hauled himself upright.

“I – they’re gone, I’m so sorry,” he said in a rush, eyes wide and scared.

Ice flooded Beca’s veins. No. Not possible.

“What the fuck does that mean?” she spat and clenched her fists, hearing the anger in her own voice.

David took a step back, looking at her warily before answering, “They’re just gone, I don’t know what –”

“Tell us what happened!” Chloe half-shrieked at him. Beca couldn’t help it – despite the seriousness of the situation, she took petty satisfaction in how furious Chloe seemed.

“He’s trying!” Paris shouted back, taking a step forward. “Would you just –”

“Stop!” Beca interrupted, moving between Chloe and Paris. “That’s not helping! What happened?” she glared at David.

David shifted uncomfortably, finally having caught his breath. “I don’t know,” he repeated, “we were doing fine, had covered a lot of ground when the Emily girl said she heard something. We stopped, and there were some weird noises, like… like rustling or something.”

Beca caught Chloe’s eye; that had been what they’d heard the night before.

David continued, “And it stopped for a while, so I started walking again, and then something hit me, hard.” He raised a hand to point at the side of his head, from which the dark line of blood trickled.

“It must have knocked me out, because the next thing I know, I’m on the ground and your friends are gone. I looked around, but didn’t see them, and that’s when I heard Paris scream, so I started yelling and came running.”

Beca had heard enough; she started toward the woods.

“Okay,” she said, “well, obviously we just have to go back there and find them and –”

Familiar arms wrapped around her waist, hauling her backward and away from the woods.

“Don’t you dare,” Chloe said, her mouth right next to her ear. “Bec, you can’t, whatever it was will just get you, too.”

“Chloe, let me go, there’s enough of us that we could take whatever the hell –”

“She’s right, Beca,” David said gravely while Paris nodded. “That thing didn’t care about attacking me, and now he – it – has four of your friends.”

“You seem fine now!” Beca fired back shaking free of Chloe angrily. “How do we know you were really even attacked?”

“David didn’t do anything!” Paris protested loudly, crossing her arms.

“That’s kind of a serious thing to say, Beca,” Chloe murmured.

Beca could have screamed. No way was Chloe still attracted to this idiot after he let something Emily and Lilly go missing, too.

“Why did you scream?” David asked Paris, steering the conversation away from himself.

The memory of what they’d found in the cabin rushed back into Beca’s mind like a punch to the gut; in her worry for Emily and Lilly, she’d completely forgotten about Jessica’s shirt.

“We found something,” Paris answered.

Chloe snorted, cutting her off before she could explain. “More like _Beca_ found something,” she said. “Ashley and Jessica’s clothes are in a washer in the far cabin.”

“What?” David looked utterly bemused. “But those cabins haven’t been used in years!”

“Yeah, well,” Beca huffed, her anger slowly ebbing to fear, “that’s what we found, and their clothes were covered in blood. Wanna look?”

She turned to march back to the cabin, Chloe hot on her heels, but Paris caught her arm and tugged her to a halt. Beca yanked herself free, tired of being manhandled. Chloe smirked.

“Wait, Beca, shouldn’t we wait for the others?” Paris pleaded, anxiety lacing her voice.

Beca hesitated, then shook her head no. She couldn’t explain why, but for some reason, she knew they had to get back to the cabin as soon as possible.

Paris sighed in defeat, and with a glance to David, gestured to let her lead the way back to the cabin.

The walk passed in tense silence. Beca’s mind whirred, theories about what had happened to Emily and Lilly – and Ashley and Jessica – bouncing around her skull, each more outlandish than the last.

Aubrey had definitely said they were alone at the retreat, and she had no reason to lie about it. But David had been hit by someone… or so he claimed, anyway. Who would have done that? Did ghosts hit people? And, God, what was happening to Emily, Lilly, Ashley, and Jessica? Lilly could handle herself, but the others… God, what was she going to say to Mrs. Junk?

Movement from the woods caught Beca’s eye, shattering her concentration.

A huge, shadowy figure stood half-concealed behind a tree, clad in what looked like a maintenance suit and with a strangely misshapen head.

An iron fist clenched around her stomach. She blinked hard and ground to a halt, but when she opened her eyes, the figure was gone.

“Um, ah…” she choked, staring at the spot she’d been sure he stood.

“Bec? What?” Chloe asked instantly, craning her neck to peer into the woods where Beca stared. “Do you see something?”

“Ye – no,” she said, changing her mind.

She’d been imagining things, that’s all. It had to be. No one could hide themselves that quickly. No need to worry anyone else because she’d been hallucinating. She’d been thinking about ghosts, so now she was seeing them. That was all.

“Ye-no?” David asked sarcastically.

“No,” Beca said firmly, shaking her head out. Ghosts weren’t real.  “Let’s go.”

She continued forward to the cabin, hearing the others follow.

It had been a trick of the light. She was sure of it.

She quickened her pace.

They reached the cabin shortly, Beca’s stomach churning with nerves. She picked her way over the steps carefully, the others following her closely. Hoping she didn’t look as terrified as she felt, she reached for the door – hadn’t they left it open? – and swung it forward so they could enter the cabin.

“The clothes are in the corner,” she said, leading them in and beckoning to David. “Just take a… look…”

Beca trailed off as she stared at the patch of floor in front of the old washer where they’d left the bloodied clothes.

Except. They were gone. Every piece of clothing was gone, as was the puddle of water that had poured from the washer. The washer itself, which Beca was sure they’d left open, had been closed and turned off; it looked like it hadn’t been run in years.

“What the everloving –”

“Beca!” Chloe gasped, one hand again clutching Beca’s arm, the other raised to point at something across the room.

Beca’s gaze followed Chloe’s index finger, moving across the room to land on a mirror on the wall. It had been moved; unlike when they’d been in the cabin earlier, the glass was facing out into the room so that Beca could see her own terrified expression reflected in the glass.

And there, written across it in deep red were the words:

_Leave now or suffer with me_

_\- Charles_


	4. Murder of Crows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you don't like birds, maybe skim over the ending of this chapter.

Beca’s eyes followed Aubrey as she paced around the living room gnawing at a thumbnail, her formerly perfect manicure ruined. Her other hand clung onto Chippy, dragging him across the floor as though she expected him to walk, his wooden legs clacking against the floor.

Less than an hour had passed since Jessica’s shirt had gone missing; Aubrey’s search party had returned to the clearing only for Beca, Chloe, Paris, and David to usher everyone inside, latching the heavy wooden door behind them before giving them the news. David and Paris had immediately sunk into the couch, Beca perching herself next to Paris while Chloe had pulled in a chair to sit on Beca’s other side. Amy had been wheeled down from the second floor and sat, her face in her hands, between Flo and Stacie in their respective armchairs. Tears silently streamed down Stacie’s face while Cynthia-Rose, in the adjacent corner, glared in David’s direction malevolently.

Aubrey stopped pacing abruptly and barked at Beca, “Okay, tell me again.”

Beca barely kept herself from sighing in exasperation. Forcing herself to remain calm, she said, “We told you already. We found the bloody shirt, Emily and Lilly went missing, and the shirt disappeared.”

“Plus the message from Charles,” Chloe added. “’Leave now or –‘”

“It’s not possible,” Aubrey snapped, her eyes landing on Chloe beseechingly.

“Yes, it is, Aubrey,” Chloe replied, her hands clenching into fists in her lap. “We really need to get out of here before anything else happens.”

“Oh my god,” Stacie croaked, her puffy eyes moving between Chloe and Aubrey. “What does he want from us?”

“We’re getting picked off one by one like dogs,” Flo added, looking grim.

Beca leaned back and groaned, “We’re screwed.”

They were getting slaughtered, and Aubrey wasn’t doing anything about it.

“No,” Chloe’s voice rang out, loud and strong. “We’re gonna work together as Bellas to overcome, we’re gonna solve it, and we’re gonna find the others.”

Beca sat up in surprise; there was the co-captain she knew and loved. Despite her fear, she felt a corner of her mouth quirk up.

Aubrey nodded approvingly and, swopping Chippy up into her arms, said, “That’s what I like to hear! So now, we’ll just come up with a plan –”

“Like the police!” Amy burst suddenly, her expression incredulous.

“Yeah, I’m done with this crazy shit,” Cynthia-Rose added, standing from her chair and moving toward the door as if to leave the lodge.

In a flurry of moment, David rose from the couch and stood between Cynthia-Rose and the door, facing them all and barring anyone from exiting.

“Woah, hey –” Amy started to protest, half-rising from her wheelchair.

David raised a hand, cutting her off. “No one leaves,” he said commandingly, “at least not until we have a plan. We need to stay together. No more splitting up all the time.”

“Listen, you boy scout wannabe –” Beca snarled, half-rising from her chair.

“Beca, don’t,” Chloe interrupted tiredly.

Beca whipped around to glare at her – no way was Chloe defending that creep – but Chloe continued, ignoring Beca’s expression.

“David’s right,” she said, “We can’t keep splitting up. But we absolutely need to go to the police.”

Aubrey made a small noise of protest. “I don’t know if that’s really –”

“Aubrey,” Paris spoke for the first time since returning to the lodge, her voice hoarse. “I saw the clothes, too. It’s not right. We need the police now.”

Flo nodded and said, “It’s got to be someone on the outside, right? We were together.”

Beca sank slowly back into her chair, her mood worsening as she glared at David. She didn’t see how he could have hidden the clothing in the time it took between them leaving the laundry cabin and returning, but he’d still let something take Emily and Lilly.

And she definitely hadn’t been imagining that freaky figure in the woods.

Aubrey pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes at Paris, clearly thinking something through. Beca shifted uncomfortably; she’d been on the receiving end of that glare more than once. Finally, Aubrey sighed, and her shoulders sagged in defeat.

“Fine,” she said, squeezing her eyes closed momentarily. “We go to the police.”

“Hallelujah,” Cynthia-Rose muttered, shoving David out of the way and reaching for the door handle. “Dibs on driving the bus since Amy can’t move.”

“I fell in a pit!”

“Meh,” Stacie shrugged, rising from her chair to follow Cynthia-Rose out the door.

Beca stood up as well, reaching out a hand to pull Chloe to her feet. She felt Paris’s eyes on her but refused to look over; the last thing she needed was to turn into a blushing, incoherent mess right after getting Aubrey to change her mind.

They trooped out of the cabin, Flo pushing Amy in her wheelchair over the uneven ground. Beca made sure to walk directly behind David, where she could keep an eye on him. Chloe walked next to her, staying close, their hands brushing occasionally (not that Beca minded). Aubrey brought up the rear, dragging Chippy along behind her. Beca kind of wished Aubrey had grabbed her shotgun instead of the creepy puppet, but then, with the way she’d been acting, maybe her remaining unarmed was a better option.

As they walked as a group to the bus, passing the tangled remnants of their tent, Beca blinked against the cool moisture in the air; it wasn’t raining yet, but the mist oozing from the woods was stifling, and a glance toward the steel-colored sky hinted at storms to come. She could practically feel electricity crackling through the air, though maybe that was just her nerves.

“Keys!” Cynthia-Rose barked over her shoulder; Amy dug in her pocket, then tossed the keyring to Cynthia-Rose, who unlocked the double doors of the bus and climbed into the driver’s seat.

“Everyone in while she’s warming up,” Cynthia-Rose commanded.

“Are you really sure –” Aubrey started.

“ _Yes_ ,” Beca cut her off firmly, earning a glare in response. Not that she cared.

“I’m sorry, Bree,” Chloe soothed, reaching an arm around Aubrey’s shoulders but keeping her distance from Chippy. “It’s for the best.”

Flo and Stacie boarded the bus while Beca looked around for something they could use as a ramp for Amy’s wheelchair.  She kept getting distracted by the darkness of the woods, however; it was nearing noon, and yet, no sunlight permeated their trunks. It wasn’t right.

A lone crow soared out of the woods to land on the roof of Aubrey’s lodge, fixing its beady eyes on them and clacking its beak once.

She wished Cynthia-Rose would hurry up and start the bus.

As soon as the thought formed, she heard the keys jingle, then the unmistakable scrape of them sliding into the ignition. She heard Cynthia-Rose sigh in relief as she turned the key.

Nothing.

Nothing, except a strange clicking noise.

“Uh.”

“Try again!” Stacie’s voice came from out of sight on the bus.

Cynthia-Rose turned the keys again in the ignition.

_Click click click click._

The rapid clicks filled the air, cutting through the mist and into Beca’s heart.

Cynthia-Rose swore and tried again, then again, then a third time.

_Click click click click._

Beca let her eyes slide closed. She wasn’t a car freak by any means, but she still knew what that noise meant.

“What’s happening?” Chloe whispered, suddenly close to Beca.

Beca grimaced. “Dead battery,” she muttered, forcing her eyes open again to see that a second crow had joined the first on the lodge roof. Beca frowned; there hadn’t been any sign of wildlife when they’d first arrived.

“What?” Amy asked loudly from her wheelchair. “That’s not possible! We’ve only been here a day!”

“We – we can just jump it, right?” Flo asked anxiously as she, Stacie, and Cynthia-Rose exited the bus.

David nodded and said, “Yeah, there are cables in the garage. I can go –”

“No,” Paris cut him off sharply, her deep blue eyes scanning the woods. “We stick together, remember?”

Amy leaned forward. “You’re good with cars, right?” she asked Cynthia-Rose pointedly. “That’s a thing?”

Cynthia-Rose snorted and rolled her eyes, but nevertheless made her way around to the back of the bus.

“Where are you going?” Stacie called, her voice a higher pitch than normal.

“The engine’s in the back,” Cynthia-Rose replied, reaching for a latch on the rear and pulling the engine compartment open with a tug.

“Told you she was good at cars,” Amy muttered to no one in particular.

Figuring that she should at least make it look like she was trying to help, Beca wandered around the bus to join her. As she walked, she noticed a third crow, this one in the topmost branches of a nearby tree.

“Uh…”

Cynthia-Rose’s confused voice brought Beca’s attention back to the engine. Her stomach panged at the sight.

There was a gaping hole where she figured the battery should be.

“What the fuck is this shit?” Cynthia-Rose’s loud exclamation drew the rest of the Bellas, plus Paris and David.

“Oh my god.”

“Where’s the battery?”

“Shit.”

“Beca…” soft fingers laced with her own and Beca looked up to meet Chloe’s cerulean eyes. She saw her own terror reflected there, and she hated it. She hated seeing Chloe in distress.

With a growl, she tugged her hand free from Chloe’s and spun to point between David and Aubrey, both of whom had yet to speak.

“Happy now?” she spat. “Which one of you did this?”

The stared at her in silence, stunned by her outburst. Instead of calming her down, though, that made her even angrier.

“No, don’t give me that!” she half-shouted. “You guys just had to protect your precious camp, and now we can’t go for help or even leave this god damn, motherfu –”

“Beca!” Paris cried, jumping between Beca and Aubrey and David, planting a hand on Beca’s shoulder. “They didn’t do this! They couldn’t have! We’ve been with them all morning!”

“Well, maybe last night!” Beca replied heatedly, but no longer shouting. She didn’t want to lash out at Paris.

“Why would they do that, Beca?” Paris pleaded, her eyes wide. “Think! It doesn’t make sense. Someone else did this. Not them.”

“But –”

“She’s right, Bec,” Chloe muttered from next to her. “It wasn’t them.”

Beca exhaled in a noisy puff. She hated to admit it, but Paris and Chloe were probably right. If the bus couldn’t move, then they were all trapped. As far as she could tell, Aubrey and David didn’t have much to gain by getting murdered with the Bellas.

Soft pressure on her upper arm startled her; she’d forgotten Paris’s hand was there. For some reason, with Chloe standing right there, it felt uncomfortable, inappropriate. She leaned away from the touch, trying to make it look casual. Chloe sniffed loudly and Beca glanced up in time to see her struggling to control her expression.

“What do we do, then?” Chloe asked quickly, diverting Beca’s attention.

“We can’t just sit around and wait to get attacked,” Stacie said, looking around the clearing anxiously.

“We have cars,” David interjected. “We wouldn’t all fit in one, but we could all go separately.”

Beca was nodding before David even finished his sentence. She’d take anything at this point, though she was irritated he hadn’t mentioned that little tidbit before.

“What are we waiting for?” Cynthia-Rose asked from next to the engine.

“Yeah, let’s do that,” Flo nodded, looking at David expectantly.

David gestured wordlessly back toward the lodge, and with a glance at the woods (there were now four more crows gathered on the same tree), Beca and the others followed him, Flo again pushing Amy in her wheelchair. Chloe stayed even closer to Beca’s side, which Beca appreciated; she liked knowing where Chloe was as much as Chloe seemed to like knowing where she was.

They made their way around the lodge, to the back side facing the lake, which Beca hadn’t seen before. She glanced askance at Aubrey, who had yet to say anything, only to stare in shock; Aubrey looked horrible, her face tight and pale, a sheen of sweat on her forehead.

“Dude,” she blurted, startling Chloe next to her. “You okay?”

“What?” Aubrey snapped, looking up with unfocused eyes. “Yeah, I am fine.”

And she returned to staring at the ground as they walked, Chippy dragging along behind her.

Beca glanced at Chloe, her eyebrows raised, but Chloe just frowned and shook her head. He expression said _Don’t push it._

Shaking her head, Beca returned her attention to where they were going; David was leading them to a garage that had been concealed from view by Aubrey’s lodge. It was just as decrepit as the rest of the buildings on the retreat grounds, and just as overrun with thistles and weeds, with some even growing up the car door. Beca again wondered exactly what David was good for, as he obviously failed as a gardener.

At the side door of the garage, David reached for his front pocket, pulling out a ton of rusty-looking keys on a ring. He rifled through them, selected one, and inserted it into the door handle, unlocking it and shoving the door open with a squeal of old hinges. The interior was shrouded in darkness and a damp smell emanated from within, but David and Paris walked in without hesitation.

Flo, Amy, Stacie, and Cynthia-Rose all glanced back nervously, but Beca merely shrugged. She didn’t really want to go in either, but she didn’t see any choice. Besides, anything go get away from those creepy birds. After a moment, they followed David and Paris into the garage, disappearing into its depths.

Beca glanced at Chloe, who grimaced and shrugged back. With a last deep breath, Beca stepped over the threshold, hoping no spiders were going to fall into her hair. Aubrey and Chippy followed them.

“Don’t close the door,” Beca whispered at the exact moment Aubrey pulled the door shut behind them.

They were plunged immediately into foul-smelling blackness; there were no windows in the garage.

Beca heard Chloe’s breath hitch, then a hand found hers. She squeezed back, hoping it seemed reassuring despite the fact her palm was sweating.

A second later, though, a light flickered on, casting a frail orange glow over the terrified faces of the other Bellas and the neutral expressions of David and Paris. Beca blinked in the sudden light, and saw Aubrey moving away from a light switch on the wall. Beca looked around the garage, first noticing the three cars packed in somewhat haphazardly in the center. Various yard equipment hung around the walls, including hoses, axes, and hacksaws. Beca shuddered, suddenly glad that the garage remained locked. The last thing they needed was for the ghost – or whatever – getting its hands on sharp tools.

Not that ghosts could be stopped by solid walls.

Beca swallowed.

“Oh, thank Jesus,” Cynthia-Rose sighed, her eyes on the three cars.

“Okay,” Chloe said, relief evident in her tone, “we’ll just climb in these and then off we’ll go!”

“Wait,” David said seriously, moving to what Beca assumed was his car, a black Mustang. “This doesn’t look right.”

Beca squinted at the front of the car, then saw what he meant; the hood was cracked open.

Her heart sank.

She knew what they’d see even as David reached under the hood, releasing the latch and lifting.

The others gasped and Cynthia-Rose swore when the hood rose to reveal an empty space where the battery should be.

Chloe’s grip on her hand tightened.

Paris flew to her own car, a blue Bug, and wrenched the hood up; its battery was also missing.

Beca squeezed Chloe’s hand just as firmly.

They all looked to Aubrey next. It felt pointless, but they had to know for sure.

Aubrey walked slowly to her car, every step she took building the terrified anticipation filling Beca’s stomach, until she finally stood at the hood of her Corolla. She bent down, and Beca was sure it was a trick of the light, but Chippy’s arms dangled so that it almost looked like the doll was helping to lift the hood.

She shuddered at the thought, then flinched when the hood rose.

The battery had been removed.

Flo let out a deep groan and Stacie took several gulping breaths; Beca felt like she’d been clobbered over the head with a shovel. The garage swam dangerously in front of her eyes and she felt herself stumble, only for Chloe’s arm to wrap securely around her waist.

“Oh, no, you don’t,” Chloe said bracingly, bringing her back to her feet. “It’s fine, we’re fine, okay?”

“We’re not fine!” Amy burst out, her voice filling the garage, echoing off the walls and making Cynthia-Rose wince. “How the hell are we supposed to get out now? We can’t go to the police, we can’t call for anyone, our friends are probably dead –”

“Don’t!” shouted Aubrey suddenly. “Think like a team, Bellas! You can figure this out!”

“This isn’t a game, Aubrey!” Stacie hissed. “Working together isn’t going to change anything, except maybe getting us killed faster!”

“Stop fighting,” Chloe pleaded, “it’s not helping! Let’s just go back to the lodge and –”

“Oh, I’ll go to the lodge!” Amy cried hysterically. “I’m not leaving the lodge until we get some help!”

“Can we just walk?” Beca asked, pressing the heel of her free hand into her forehead. “How far is the nearest house?”

She didn’t remember seeing any houses – or any sign of life, really – for at least the last 20 minutes of their drive to the retreat the day before, but maybe she’d missed something.

“There’s no one around for miles,” Paris said, popping the little bubble of hope that had started to form in Beca’s chest. “That’s why it’s perfect for a retreat.”

“Yeah, perfect,” Cynthia-Rose scoffed angrily.

Flo moved to the garage door. “I’m going back to the lodge and locking the door, before anything else happens.”

“Right behind you,” Stacie agreed as Flo flung the door open.

They marched out, leaving Cynthia-Rose to push Amy’s wheelchair out of the smelly garage and back into the chilly air outside. With a fearful look to Beca, Chloe followed, tugging Beca along with her. As they half-jogged from the garage, Beca looked over her shoulder to see Paris, Aubrey, and Chippy following while David locked the door behind them all.

Looking forward again, Beca watched Stacie and Flo disappeared around the corner of the lodge, clearly headed for the front door at top speed, Cynthia-Rose and Amy following closely. After another second, Cynthia-Rose and Amy rounded the corner and went out of sight as they entered the front yard of the lodge.

“No splitting up,” Chloe mumbled, her pull on Beca’s hand increasing, urging her forward and around to the front of the lodge to join their friends.

Immediately after rounding the corner, they plowed into Cynthia-Rose’s back.

“Why the hell –”

“Shh.”

“Wh –”

“ _Shh_.”

Stacie shushed them the second time; she and Flo had stopped directly in front of Cynthia-Rose.

Beca looked past them all and into the clearing in front of the lodge.

She nearly screamed.

Birds. There were birds everywhere.

Crows. Huge, filthy, black crows. More than Beca had ever seen in her life. Crows, everywhere.

On the roof of Aubrey’s lodge, on the windowsills and stairs and railings, on every branch in the trees, on the roof of the bus, on the mirrors of the bus, on the collapsed pile of canvas that was their tent from the night before, even on the ground. A sea of birds, coating everything like black ink.

And all of their eyes and beaks were pointed directly at the Bellas.

Beca froze and held her breath. Chloe’s hand twitched in hers.

Pounding feet behind her made her jump, but she didn’t dare shout out; instead, she braced for collision. A second later, Paris, Aubrey, and David ran into them, shoving both her and Chloe forward as they’d run into Cynthia-Rose.

“Shh!” Beca hissed before they could even ask. She was pretty sure Chippy’s shoe was digging into her spine.

She felt them freeze behind her, could almost feel the terror crash over them as they realized.

A heartbeat passed, or maybe it was an hour. She wasn’t sure, could only think about the hundreds – if not thousands – of birds watching them.

“What do we do?” Chloe breathed.

“I don’t know,” Beca replied, trying to be as quiet as possible.

“We have to move eventually,” Cynthia-Rose muttered.

“Like hell,” Paris whispered.

Another long moment dragged by. A crow clacked its beak from near Beca’s foot and she winced.

Her eyes swiveled, looking for any way out and seeing only black feathers and sharp beaks. Would the birds let them back away? Or would the movement be too much?

“Um, no one be alarmed,” Amy’s soft voice permeated the air, “but I think I’m allergic to crows.”

“What?” David whispered, confused.

“Well…” Amy’s voice trailed off.

Oh no.

Beca closed her eyes, dread dropping into her stomach like a brick. She knew where this was headed.

Chloe didn’t seem to have a clue. “Amy, what –” she started to whisper, only to stop abruptly at the sound of Amy’s tight breathing.

“Ahh, ahh…” Amy panted, then – she sneezed.

It was quite possibly the loudest, most explosive noise Beca had ever heard. It made them all flinch violently; Stacie even let out a small shriek.

“Well, fuck,” Beca managed.

Then the birds were on them.

They had no chance; wings and beaks and eyes were everywhere, filling her vision, stealing the air from her lungs. Beca dragged Chloe forward, searching blindly for the cabin. It was a total free-for-all, the shrieks and yells of the others surrounding her, lost in the cacophony of caws and clacking and beating wings overriding her every sense. Beca squeezed her eyes closed and flung her free hand over her head, desperate to protect her face even as she felt the sting of claws and beaks tearing at her arms and legs, though not as painfully as she’d expected.

Chloe’s loud scream jerked her eyes open reflexively; there was a crow tangled in her red locks. Beca dropped Chloe’s hand and swatted at the bird, forcing it away from Chloe. She looked around frantically for the others, wanting to help while also defending herself. She caught a glimpse of Aubrey pushing Amy’s wheelchair to the lodge, birds flapping around their heads; Flo and Cynthia-Rose cowering on the ground, overrun; David and Paris swinging at the birds with their hands, fending them off as well as they could.

A bird flew directly at Beca’s face and she lashed out reflexively, backhanding it. It veered away, and in its place she thought she saw Chippy through the window of Aubrey’s lodge, perched in the windowsill almost as if watching the scene from the safety of the indoors, but then another loud scream tore her attention away.

Stacie was sprinting away from the clearing, a huge cloud of birds breaking away to chase her. She screamed again, panicking as the birds dive-bombed her.

She was running directly toward the empty pool.

“Stacie, don’t!” Beca yelled, sure she wouldn’t be heard over the sound of the birds. She tried to break free, to chase after Stacie, only to be tripped by a crow and fall flat on her stomach. She looked up, hoping someone else could get to Stacie, but Chloe was fending off her own legion of birds while Flo, Cynthia-Rose, and Paris ducked and weaved around scores of birds.

David, however, managed to throw off the birds surrounding him; with a burst of speed and a primal yell, he sprinted forward after Stacie, trying to reach her before she got to the pool, but she had too much of a head start.

It happened in the blink of an eye.

Even as Stacie and David ran toward the empty pool, a huge figure climbed out of it. He wore a singed-looking maintenance suit, black boots, and black gloves. His head was misshapen, concealed under a brown burlap sack that had holes for eyes and was sewn with a horrible, stitched-on mouth in the shape of a black smile. He was carrying a massive chef’s knife.

Stacie, blinded by the birds and her own panic, ran directly into his waiting arms.

Beca heard herself scream and she crawled forward, only to fall again under the weight of birds.

David didn’t slow down. He rammed into the figure, pulling at Stacie, trying to shove himself between her and the masked maintenance man. The figure stumbled, his boot slipping over the edge of the pool. He reached out to grab both Stacie and David, and all three of them toppled backward into the pool and out of sight.

“NO!” Beca screamed, her voice tearing as she lashed out at the birds, needing to get to the pool, needing to save Stacie, needing to see what had happened.

Just like that, the onslaught lifted. Without warning, the torrent of birds broke, dispersing into the trees and fleeing as suddenly as they’d attacked.

Beca lay motionless on the ground for an instant, stunned at the unexpected retreat. She looked to Chloe first, who was already staring down at her, shallow scratches on her arms and one on her cheek. Seeing she was okay, Beca hauled herself up to her feet.

“Stacie!” she yelled, sprinting to the empty pool, ignoring the sting of the scratches on her arms and legs.

There was no answer.

From behind her, she heard the others following, Paris calling for David as she ran.

Beca made it to the pool first, peering down into its depths, expecting to see a tangle of limbs as Stacie and David fought their attacker.

There was nothing.

“No, no, no…” Beca chanted under her breath, scanning for any sign of them, but they were gone. Vanished, like Ashley and Jessica and Emily and Lilly, gone without a trace.

Chloe appeared next to her, then Paris on her other side, both having sprinted to join her. Chloe gaped down into the empty pool, shock and disbelief filling her features, while Paris screamed and turned away in frustration.

“Where are they?!” Paris shrieked, startling Flo and Cynthia-Rose, who were limping over to join them.

“You mean –?” Flo started to ask.

“Gone,” Chloe whispered, turning her back on the pool. “All of them.”

Cynthia-Rose pointed a shaking finger toward them. “You saw him, right? That guy with the sack head?”

Beca nodded, her skin crawling at the memory of his blank stare and the long knife he held – which, she suddenly realized, had to be the missing chef’s knife in the kitchen.

“Nope,” Cynthia-Rose said, shaking her head and backing away. “Nope, I’m out, I’m done, I’m not getting murdered by some electrocuted ghost freak –”

“What happened?”

Beca looked up to see Aubrey jogging toward them, her face frightened. Reaching them, she continued, “The birds attacked so I wheeled Amy inside to keep her safe. Did someone fall in?” she asked, her eyes flicking to the pool.

Paris rounded on her instantly. “Some freak in a mask jumped out and grabbed David and Stacie and pulled them in! Aubrey, it was him, it was Charles!”

Aubrey dew up short, her brow creasing. “What? Are they still down there? We need to get them!”

“No kidding,” Beca fired sarcastically. “We looked, and they’re just gone. Poof. Nada. No dice.”

She gestured grandly, hearing the strain in her own voice but not caring. She expected Aubrey to ask more questions, or to look into the pool for herself, insisting that they just weren’t searching properly.

She didn’t expect Aubrey’s face to pale even further. “Get inside,” she whispered, eyes bouncing between them all.

No one moved.

“But,” Chloe started, “if we look for them –”

“ _Now!_ ” Aubrey barked, making Chloe flinch. “You are all my responsibility, and I’m not losing anyone else to this creep. Move!”

Flo and Cynthia-Rose reacted instantly, jogging to the lodge, heads swiveling toward the woods, as if afraid something was going to jump out. Beca didn’t blame them.

Under Aubrey’s fierce glare, Beca, Chloe, and Paris followed Flo and Cynthia-Rose to the cabin, moving quickly and keeping an eye on the woods. Halfway to the lodge, the sound of wings fluttering jolted Beca’s heart. She raised her hands automatically to defend herself, only to see the birds rising from the trees.

A fat drop of rain hit the ground in front of her, then another, until it became clear that the downpour she’d been searching for earlier was about to break. She ran for the cabin then, desperate for shelter as the cloud of birds ascended to the sky.


	5. Psycho

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd hoped on having this whole thing done by Halloween, but... that's not gonna happen. Sorry about that, but the next (and last) chapter will be within the next week!

_If Aubrey was a dog,_ Beca thought as she, Chloe, and Paris jogged through the downpour toward the lodge, _she’d be nipping at our heels._

They reached the front door in seconds, bounding up the rickety steps to seek shelter from the torrential rain and from the masked freak that had been hunting them all. Aubrey held the door, waving them in ahead of her. Her eyes remained locked on the empty pool even as her hand flapped back and forth at the wrist, urging them to move faster.

Amy, who’d been in her wheelchair waiting for them, sat up to stare as they entered.

Once they were all inside, Aubrey launched herself over the threshold and bolted the door behind them. She spun to lean her back against the wood and took a deep breath. For the first time since they’d come to the retreat, she wasn’t holding Chippy.

 “We need to get out of here, we need to run, we need to hide!” Paris ranted instantly, clasping her hands behind her head and pacing back and forth.

“And how are we supposed to do that?” Cynthia-Rose snapped. “In case you haven’t noticed, we’re kind of trapped here!”

As she spoke, Aubrey lifted herself from the door and moved toward the couch, where Chippy sat patiently.

“I don’t know!” Paris cried, flailing her hands uselessly as Aubrey sat on the couch and pulled Chippy to sit in her lap.

“You have to have some kind of emergency landline, right?” Flo asked suddenly. “Where is that?”

Beca’s heart lifted; Flo was right. Surely, there had to be some method for emergency contact from the retreat. It was a liability issue.

Aubrey leaned forward, her face in her hands. “It’s not installed yet,” she groaned. “You guys are my first clients.”

“What?!” Beca cried, hope crashing down around her ears. “We’re your guinea pigs for this freak show?”

“And now we’re getting fucked over, so thanks for that,” Cynthia-Rose fired back.

An angry silence fell over the lodge, broken only by the pounding of the rain on the roof and against the windows. Thought it was noon, the dense clouds outside snuffed out the sunlight, shrouding everything in an eerie darkness that matched Beca’s mood.

Aubrey picked up her head slowly. She adjusted her posture until she sat ramrod straight in the couch; Beca recognized the manic determination in her bloodshot eyes. Aubrey looked around the room, appearing to scan each of them carefully even as the lines on her face deepened with stress.

“Ladies,” she said clearly, “you all look horrible.”

Paris made a small noise of indignation.

“It’s true,” Aubrey continued, ignoring her camp counselor. “You all need to eat, to sit, to recover before we do anything further.”

Beca was fuming; they didn’t need to eat, they needed to figure out a way to escape. She glanced to the others, searching for support, only to pause. Paris did look pale, Flo was shaking, and Chloe… Beca’s stomach dropped. Chloe stood, arms crossed and shoulders hunched in on herself, eyes on the floor and shivering. Her skin had a sickly greenish tint.

“Chloe?” Beca asked, completely sidetracked. “Are you… okay?”

Chloe startled at the sound of her name and looked up at Beca, her eyes unfocused.

“Woah, hey,” Beca said, moving closer instinctively. “It’s just me.”

Chloe took a deep breath through her nose, then opened her mouth as if to answer. Immediately, however, she whirled on the spot and lunged for the stairs to the second floor, taking them two at a time.

Before Beca could even blink, the sound of the bathroom door slamming echoed around the cabin in tandem with the thunder outside, followed by a horrible retching noise.

_That explains it_ , thought Beca grimly.

“Oh, shit,” Cynthia-Rose muttered.

“Not it,” interjected Amy.

Beca glared at them. “I’ll go,” she said grumpily. “You guys… I can’t believe I’m saying this, but listen to Aubrey and eat for a sec. I’ll be back.”

She started for the stairs, veering off at the last second to grab a granola bar from the pile still on the table from breakfast – the morning seemed like it was years ago rather than hours – then climbed the steps to head to the bathroom.

At the top of the stairs, Beca turned down the hall, passing the bedrooms before reaching the closed bathroom door. She hesitated outside, suddenly unsure; she wasn’t the best at comforting people. She really sucked at it, actually. At the same time, though, she knew without a doubt that if their positions were reversed, Chloe would be there for her in a heartbeat.

The toilet flushed and Beca raised her hand to knock on the door. Chloe might make a habit of just barging in on people, but that didn’t mean Beca had to.

A quiet “Come in,” sounded from within the bathroom, so Beca reached for the handle and turned, opening the door a crack and sticking her face in.

“Hey, it’s me. Can I…?” she trailed off awkwardly at the sight of Chloe sitting on the floor next to the toilet.

Chloe nodded, raking her fingers through her hair.

Beca slid into the bathroom, closing the door behind her to lean back against it.

She took a deep breath – she was _so_ bad at this – and started, “Hey, uh –”

“I’m sorry,” Chloe blurted suddenly, not quite meeting Beca’s eyes.

Beca stared. “Uh,” she stuttered, “uh, for… what? That?” she gestured at the toilet, before rushing on. “I mean, that’s, like, not great I’m sure, but it’s a pretty natural response to what we’ve seen and –”

“Not that,” Chloe said, waving a hand dismissively at the toilet.

“Oh.”

Beca shifted her weight and absentmindedly raised a hand to rub at the back of her neck. She really wished Chloe would look at her.

“Then… what are you sorry for?” she asked.

Chloe winced as if the question physically pained her. Beca waited silently, nerves crawling up her throat. The sound of the rain was louder on the second floor, a constant reminder of what waited for them outside.

Just when Beca thought Chloe wasn’t going to say anything after all, she took a deep breath, her eyes sliding closed.

“I’m sorry for… not being on your side earlier. For not leaving when you said. For not backing you up about the footsteps. For bringing us here in the first place. For –”

“Woah, dude, breathe!” Beca interrupted, moving automatically to sink to her knees next to Chloe on the floor.

Chloe took a deep, shuddering breath, drawing her arms around her knees tightly and resting her chin on them as if trying to hold herself together.

Beca looked away to stare at her own knees, feeling out of her depth. She had no idea where any of that came from. In an effort to gain some confidence, she ran a hand over her face, then back into her hair.

It didn’t work.

“Look…” she began, “Chloe. Look at me, please.”

Chloe slowly raised her head to meet Beca’s eyes for the first time since they’d returned to the lodge. Beca’s heart thudded painfully at the sadness and fear she saw there.

“Yeah,” Beca continued, “not gonna lie. All that stuff you said kinda sucks. Like, I wish you’d listened to me, ‘cuz it felt like… I don’t know, it felt like you totally just discarded everything I had to say.”

“I know. I’m sorry,” Chloe said miserably.

“And, like, there’s a part of me that wonders if, you know, if you’d listened, we could have saved everyone and left.”

At that, Chloe’s face twisted and Beca knew she was reliving the image of the masked man – Charles – grabbing Stacie right in front of their eyes.

“But, like,” Beca backtracked, not wanting to put the blame on Chloe, “who knows? Maybe we never stood a chance anyway.”

“I’m so sorry,” Chloe whispered again.

Beca sighed and leaned back to rest on her hands. “I know,” she said. “But it’s not your fault, Chlo. It’s the dude in the mask’s fault. He’s the one doing this.”

Chloe nodded, looking marginally less miserable.

Encouraged, Beca continued, “I know you’re sorry, and it’s okay. You did back me up about the footsteps, eventually. And, like, we did need to figure out our sound, or whatever. I get why we needed the retreat.”

Chloe nodded again, biting her lip.

Beca sighed internally. She really didn’t know if she was doing a good job with this.

Plus. God. Of course, Chloe was upset over that David guy, too, probably. Ugh. Thinking about that made Beca’s stomach hurt so much she kind of wanted to mimic Chloe and lean over the toilet.

Swallowing down her distaste, she choked out, “And… I’m sorry about… you know. About David.”

Frowning, Chloe stared at Beca like she’d grown a second head. “Wh – what, why?”

“Uh… you know, ‘cuz he got, like, snatched or whatever,” Beca said incredulously, questioning Chloe’s memory.

Chloe shook her head impatiently, her knees straightening out to open her posture. “No, I meant – why are you saying sorry?”

From the sudden rush of heat to her face, Beca knew it had just turned red. She examined the tiling of the bathroom floor as she replied, “Well… I thought… I mean, didn’t you… you know, like him?” she finally managed with an awkward shrug.

_Yeah, no big deal. You liked some creepy hot gardener instead of me. That’s cool._

Chloe’s eyes widened, and her head actually moved back an inch.

“Don’t – you know!” Beca insisted, feeling more flustered by the second. “With the hair flicking! And the bending over!”

Something like guilt flashed across Chloe’s face; she wrinkled her nose in disgust. “Oh, that,” she said quietly. “Um. No, I never really liked… What about you, with Paris?”

Beca wondered how red someone’s cheeks could actually get before they melted.

“What?” she asked. Brilliant stroke of genius.

Chloe sighed, then turned her body to face Beca completely, crossing her legs. Without really thinking about it, Beca mirrored her, sitting cross-legged on the floor so that their knees brushed.

“Bec, it’s okay that you’re into girls too,” Chloe said gently.

Beca’s stomach swooped. “I’m – not – what, no, that’s –”

Chloe raised a single eyebrow, a corner of her mouth quirking up.

Ugh. Beca thought vaguely that now might be a good time for Charles to burst in.

With a deep breath, she conceded, “Yeah, okay, maybe. Yes. I do. Like girls, too.”

Huh. That was the first time she’d said it. Anxiety suddenly crashed over her, a completely different kind of fear from the one she’d been riding on for the previous 24 hours.

“That’s okay, right?” she asked Chloe nervously, searching for any sign that Chloe was weirded out.

Instead, Chloe only smiled. “Of course it’s okay! I mean, Bec! I talked about experimenting! I like girls, too.”

Despite herself, Beca felt her own mouth lift into a small smile. “Oh yeah,” she said. She still felt like she needed to clarify something, though. “But Paris, it’s, I don’t know, she’s okay, but, like, she’s not really, there’s someone else –”

“Still Jesse?” Chloe interrupted, her expression strangely blank.

Beca cringed. “Ew. No. Not Jesse.”

“Who?”

Beca hesitated. Here was the opportunity she’d been waiting for. It would be so easy to say it. Just one word. And Chloe would know everything. But what then? If Chloe didn’t feel the same – and why would she, honestly? – then their friendship would basically be ruined.

Beca bit her lip, torn, staring hard at Chloe. For her part, Chloe looked almost as scared as Beca felt, for whatever reason. She also looked… hopeful?

Maybe it would be okay. Maybe she should just do it.

Before she could even start to try, though, a familiar screech ripped through the bathroom door.

“Beca, Chloe, come down here! We need to discuss!”

Beca rolled her eyes even as disappointment mingled with relief crashed over her. She hadn’t done it, and now she wasn’t sure she could. Chloe, for her part, looked equally as disgruntled, shaking her head slightly as if to clear fog from it.

“Come on,” Beca sighed, rising to her feet and reaching a hand down to Chloe. “The commander bellows.”

Chloe took her offered hand and Beca helped her up. She leaned over the sink and sipped some water from the tap, rinsing out her mouth. Beca waited by her side, handing her the granola bar once she finished. Chloe took it with a small smile, unwrapping it and taking a small bite.

It all would have been a relatively normal scene if the bathroom mirror weren’t missing, clearly torn from the tiled wall to leave a gray, unpainted square in its place.

Beca spared only a glance at the spot it should be before opening the door. From down the hall, a board creaked and she paused, wondering if one of the Bellas had joined them upstairs. She didn’t see anything though, and in response to Chloe’s questioning look, shrugged and led the way down to the living room.

The others were sat in the dining room around Aubrey’s massive table, remnants of sandwiches and more granola bars scattered around them. Beca was beyond displeased to see that Chippy once again held his own place, this time between Aubrey and Paris.

“Feeling better?” Flo asked Chloe kindly.

“Mhm,” Chloe nodded.

Beca narrowed her eyes at Amy, who was watching her closely, a sort of half-smile on her face.

Aubrey clapped her hands together once, gaining the attention of everyone at the table. “Okay, ladies,” she declared importantly, “let’s think. How can we figure this out as a team?”

Cynthia-Rose snorted so loudly it made Beca twitch. “Enough team building, oh my god,” she groaned.

“Well,” defended Paris, “there must be something we’re missing.”

Something occurred to Beca; leaning forward, she said, “We know he’s not a ghost.”

Everyone turned to look at her. A shadow flicked across Aubrey’s face.

“I mean,” continued Beca, “Stacie and David both ran into him and he was pushed back. He’s solid,” she added in response to Amy’s blank stare.

Flo nodded. “Right, so that means –”

“That means someone is doing this to us,” said Chloe with conviction.

“But who –”

Amy’s question was cut off by a bloodcurdling scream. Chloe gasped clung to Beca’s arm; Flo dove under the table; Cynthia-Rose covered her head; Paris bolted up from the table, and Amy fell from her wheelchair. Only Aubrey appeared unaffected, merely folding her hands together.

“What is that?!” Beca spit as the scream came again, clearly from outside.

“Beca!” Chloe gasped suddenly, “It sounds like Emily!”

“Emily? But –”

The scream sounded again. This time, Beca could tell it came from behind the lodge, near the lake. It echoed over the water and around the cabin, the sound of it twisting Beca’s insides like physical pain.

“She must have gotten away from Charles!” Chloe breathed. “We need to get to her!”

Beca hesitated, torn. What if it was a ploy to get them out of the lodge? But then, what if Emily had gotten away, and needed help?

The screaming cut off abruptly.

“Okay!” Beca decided, her palms sweating. “Okay, let’s go see if we can –”

“You’re crazy!” Amy gasped from the floor. “No way in hell am I going out there!”

“Amy –”

“I’m with her,” Flo muttered as she crawled out from under the table, crossing herself.

“We’re running out of time!” Chloe moaned, looking desperately toward the lake.

Beca swallowed, already hating herself but knowing what they had to do.

“Okay, Chloe and I will go check it out, you guys stay here, yeah?”

“No, don’t –” Paris started.

“I’ll go, too,” Cynthia-Rose said, cutting over Paris. “Someone’s gotta save Legacy, and it isn’t gonna be those two,” she added, gesturing to Flo and Amy.

“Great, let’s go,” Beca said quickly, Chloe’s anxiety setting her on edge. It had been so long since the last scream…

Paris scrambled forward, standing between them and the front door. “You can’t just –”

“Look, Paris,” Beca interrupted, “I get that you’re trying to help, and I appreciate that. But that could be our friend outside. We’re not leaving her. So move.”

Paris stared. For a moment, Beca thought they were going to have to shove past her. Just as she was prepared to do so, however, Paris stepped aside.

“Thanks,” Chloe said, her voice strangely clipped and satisfied.

“Be careful,” Aubrey called after them, the only thing she’d said since the screaming began.

With barely a backward glance, Beca reached the front door and wrenched it open. With a final deep breath, she led Chloe and Cynthia-Rose outside and into the downpour.

Beca was drenched to the skin instantly, half-blinded by freezing cold rain. She blinked, trying to clear the water from her eyes. Slipping a little on the soaked wood, she flew down the steps to land in the mud outside. She scanned the woods and the empty pool once for any sign of the masked man, before a tug on her arm pulled her in the opposite direction.

“Emily?!” Chloe called into the mid-day semi-darkness, her hair already plastered to her head from the rain.

They rounded the corner of the lodge, running past the garage and toward the lake in the back yard. From behind the lodge, Beca could spot a small building she’d never spotted before near the empty pool, hidden behind the cabin where they’d found Jessica’s shirt.

Tearing her eyes away from whatever that was, Beca searched the grounds for any hint of either the man or of Emily.

“Legacy?” Cynthia-Rose called nervously as they headed toward the lake. “You there?”

A splash sounded from the lake, jerking Beca’s head around to squint in that direction. They were afforded some light from the flickering rear windows of Aubrey’s lodge, but other than that, it was too dim to see well, and the lashing rain and wind in the trees messed with Beca’s vision.

“Emily?” she asked, moving reluctantly toward the lake even as dread filled her stomach. That had been a loud splash. She didn’t much like to think about what could have been tossed into the lake to produce it.

They stood in the yard, instinctively forming a sort of small circle so their backs faced one another as they continued to search for Emily. Beca’s head swiveled in every direction, searching, waiting, staring through the sheets of rain for any sign that they’d been right to come barreling outside, dreading that they’d made a final, fatal mistake.

“Guys?” Cynthia-Rose muttered. “Maybe we should –”

Something moved in the lake.

Beca heard the water splash, glimpsed the shadow of it twist just under the water, and without a second thought, she was moving.

She sprinted toward the lake, hearing but not caring about Chloe’s and Cynthia-Rose’s yells; all she cared about was getting to the water, getting to Emily, saving at least one of them before –

The ground disappeared from under her and she fell, fell with a cry, to land painfully on her back.

She blinked up at the circle of light above her, leaves and branches dangling down. She’d fallen into a pit trap.

“Beca!” Chloe’s scream filled the air, drawing closer. “Beca! No!”

“Stop,” Beca groaned, not wanting Chloe and Cynthia-Rose to fall in the pit with her. “It’s a trap, don’t.”

She rolled, trying to see if she’d broken anything; thankfully, the mud and rainwater had cushioned her fall. She was filthy, and a little sore, but nothing seemed to be seriously wrong.

The sound of squelching footsteps and rapid pants met her ears and she looked up to see Chloe and Cynthia-Rose staring down at her. Chloe looked utterly terrified.

“You okay?” Cynthia-Rose gasped.

“I think so,” Beca replied, standing up slowly. It was only then she realized how deep the hole was; it was at least three feet higher than she was tall. Getting out was going to be nearly impossible.

Of course, it wasn’t designed for someone to get out of.

Her heart sank, and she glanced at Chloe, who had clearly just realized the same thing.

“You guys need to run,” Beca said urgently, half-expecting to hear boots trudging through the mud to get to her.

“Absolutely not,” Chloe snapped.

“Chloe,” Beca hissed, “he’s coming. You know he’s coming. It was a trap, and it worked. Get back inside, and I’ll figure this out.”

Both Chloe and Cynthia-Rose were shaking their heads before Beca had even finished speaking.

“We’re gonna get you out,” Chloe said stubbornly.

“Yeah,” added Cynthia-Rose. “We got Amy out, we’ll get you out, too.”

“ _Dude_ ,” Beca tried again. “I appreciate it, but –”

“Right,” interrupted Chloe, “you try to find some kind of… I don’t know, a foothold in there, I’ll find a rope or stick or something.”

“No time!” insisted Cynthia-Rose. “We just gotta reach in and grab her.”

Beca strained her ears for any sign of Charles, her heart in her throat. She was sure he was going to pop out at any moment, horrible sack on his head and knife in his hand.

“Do it fast,” she warned, shaking her head.

Immediately, Chloe threw herself down on her stomach, splattering mud up and all over herself. She threw a hand into the pit at the same time Cynthia Rose knelt to grab onto her legs.

“I’ll keep an eye out for the psycho,” she muttered, already scanning their surroundings.

Gritting her teeth, Beca wiped the mud and rain from her face and reached for Chloe’s hand. Their fingers barely brushed.

“Lower!” Chloe said over her shoulder, and Cynthia-Rose eased her further into the hole, still holding tight to her legs.

Beca reached up again, catching Chloe’s hand, then her forearm in a steady grip. Chloe grasped onto her forearm, reaching her other hand down to grab Beca’s other arm just as securely.

“I’ve got you,” she whispered. “We’ll get you out.”

Beca nodded. She trusted Chloe more than anyone.

She planted a foot on the rain-slicked wall of the pit, pushing off as Cynthia-Rose pulled back on Chloe’s legs. Beca’s other foot left the floor of the pit, so she planted that on the wall as well to help.

Inch by inch she rose, Chloe holding onto her as Cynthia-Rose hauled them both backward. They moved more slowly than Beca would have liked; her shoulders burned from the strain. Eventually, though, her head poked over the edge of the pit. She could see the lake behind Cynthia-Rose and Chloe, disturbed by the heavy rain.

Chloe let go of one of her arms, and she hooked her elbow over the edge of the pit, wincing as it sank into two inches of mud. Chloe grabbed the back of her shirt, tugging until Beca’s upper body was completely out of the pit. From there, Beca managed to hoist a knee up, then was able to crawl forward and completely out of the pit.

Cynthia-Rose released Chloe’s legs with a cheer, still looking around for the man. Beca lay collapsed outside the pit, breathing hard, barely able to believe that had worked. After a moment, she lifted her head to stare directly into Chloe’s eyes.

Her breath caught; they were so close. She could have easily extended forward and pressed their lips together.

“Guys?” Cynthia-Rose’s voice broke through the haze.

Chloe blinked rapidly, scooting back and sitting up. “You’re okay?” she asked, a pink tinge appearing in her cheeks.

“Y-yeah,” Beca replied, also scrambling shakily to her feet. “Thanks for that.”

Cynthia-Rose shifted in place. “Great, can we please go –”

A scream ripped through the air.

Beca almost groaned. This was getting old.

The scream came again, and she realized it was coming from the lodge. Her blood ran cold.

An instant later, Paris came streaming around the corner of the lodge. A flash of lightning illuminated the terror etched into her expression.

“Paris, what –”

“Beca!” she gasped, stumbling up to them, clinging to the front of Beca’s shirt. “He – he –”

“Spit it out!” Chloe pleaded.

Paris took a deep, shuddering breath, then managed, “He – Charles – was in the house!”

The breath left Beca’s lungs in a whoosh as if she’d been punched.

“Wh-what?” she asked, shaking Paris slightly. “What’d you just say?”

“He – he was waiting for us. When you three left, he came down the stairs and – and – there was nothing I could do, I had to run!”

Beca should have known. The board creaking. She knew she’d heard something.

Her skin crawled; while she’d been with Chloe in the bathroom, he could have been just outside the door, waiting for them.

“You mean,” Chloe said, her voice trembling, “you left them? They’re all – gone?”

Paris broke down completely, her knees buckling. Her weight dragged Beca down with her, forcing her into an awkward sort of hunch over Paris.

Detangling Paris’s fingers from her shirt, Beca exchanged looks with Chloe and Cynthia-Rose, the same fear and uncertainty she felt reflected back at her.

“What do we do?” Cynthia-Rose whispered. “If they’re all…”

“We don’t know that,” Beca said quickly.

“Yeah,” Chloe agreed, wiping her eyes – though of rain or tears Beca couldn’t tell. “We need to check on them.”

“You’re both crazy,” Cynthia-Rose shook her head, her eyes on the still-sobbing Paris at Beca’s feet. “No way. What if he’s still there?”

“We can’t just stay out here!” Chloe squeaked back. “We’ll freeze.”

She was right; the rain was becoming steadily colder and was starting to numb Beca’s fingers.

“Chlo’s right,” Beca finally said, “we need to get inside.”

Cynthia-Rose’s lip trembled. “What about Emily?” she asked, gesturing wildly toward the lake. “What happened to all that?”

Beca shook her head and winced. “It was a trap, meant to separate us again. And even if it was Emily, she’s… it’s too late.”

Cynthia-Rose closed her eyes, exhaling slowly. After a moment, she reopened them and said, “You know this is bullshit, right? We’re not gonna get out of this. You know that. Right?”

Beca’s stomach flipped. She didn’t like to think about that. The lodge had seemed like their one refuge, the one place absolutely nothing could touch them, and they’d lost it.

She really didn’t see a way out.

“Let’s deal with that later,” Chloe said uneasily. “For now, let’s… let’s see what’s left.”

Cynthia-Rose threw her hands up in the air and immediately started stomping toward the lodge. “Fine!” she bellowed over her shoulder. “I guess we’ll just die now, then!”

Beca glanced at Chloe, startled, then down at Paris. Paris had stopped sobbing; she knelt at Beca’s feet, sniffling and shivering in the cold.

“Come on,” Beca urged Paris to her feet, helping her stand. After a moment, Chloe reached out a hand to help, and together, they managed to get her upright. Once she was standing, Chloe grabbed Beca’s hand and tugged her after Cynthia-Rose, who was already almost around the corner of the lodge.

They moved quickly, slipping and sliding again in mud that now welled up to Beca’s ankles. As they rounded the corner of the lodge, one of Beca’s feet got stuck; she yanked it free with an ungodly slurping noise and a spray of mud. Internally mourning her once-nice Converse, she followed Cynthia-Rose around the front of the lodge (no birds in sight) and up the front steps before she could reconsider.

She was glad she’d just barged in the front door; no amount of hesitation on the step could have prepared her for what the lodge looked like.

It was a disaster. All the furniture in the living room was tipped, cushions torn, fluff dripping out onto the carpet. Aubrey’s side table was smashed, and the books on the shelf had all been dumped on the floor. The dining room and kitchen were equally ruined; almost every drawer in the kitchen was ripped open as if someone had been looking for a weapon. All the knives were missing from the cooking block, and the oven door was dented. The dinner table lay upside down, as if someone had flipped it, and chairs were strewn all around it. Amy’s wheelchair lay on its side, vacant and with one wheel bent.

Beca had to swallow against the sudden nausea in her throat.

They’d clearly put up a hell of a fight. There was no blood, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out what had happened.

The Bellas were gone; it was only her, Chloe, and Cynthia-Rose left.

Cynthia-Rose stepped fully into the lodge, fists raised bravely.

“Bring it, fucker!” she yelled into the house.

Beca jumped; behind her, Chloe gasped and Paris made a weird choking noise.

Nothing happened.

“I think he’s gone,” Beca whispered, taking a hesitant step forward and feeling Chloe follow closely.

“He might be, but that _thing_ isn’t,” Cynthia-Rose hissed, pointing toward the fireplace at something Beca couldn’t see.

She walked over to Cynthia-Rose, then stopped dead when she saw it. Him.

Chippy sat on the fireplace, looking absolutely pristine, staring out into the room happily.

“Where’s the shotgun?” Chloe muttered, also walking up to glare at Chippy in revulsion. “I want to borrow it.”

“It’s gone,” Paris deadpanned, making them turn to face her. “Aubrey tried to use it, but he – Charles – yanked it away and smashed it.”

She pointed to a spot in the kitchen; sure enough, on the floor, a pile of splintered wood and twisted metal was all that remained.

Beca didn’t like to think of the kind of strength it would take to smash a gun like that.

Chloe let out a squeak of dismay at the sight. It made Beca turn to her, then pause.

Chloe was coated in mud from head to toe, most of it from having lain down to help her out of the hole. Beca looked down at herself; she was caked in dirt as well, dripping some of it into the carpet. She was also cold, maybe dangerously so. She needed a change of clothes, fast.

And she really, really needed a distraction from her missing Bellas.

“Um, right,” she said, drawing everyone’s attention. “I’m going to shower and change.”

They all blinked at her mutely.

Beca shifted her weight.

Paris coughed.

Beca wondered if she had something in her teeth, and that’s why they were all staring.

“What?” she finally asked, feeling her face warm.

“Rookie mistake,” Cynthia-Rose muttered.

“Yeah, Bec,” Chloe nodded, “a shower during something horrible like this is kinda dumb.”

“Haven’t you seen any movies?” Paris asked, bemused.

“She hasn’t,” both Chloe and Cynthia-Rose replied.

Beca glared at them all. “I’m filthy!” she half-shouted. “And I’m freezing! The dude’s gone anyway.”

Cynthia-Rose raised her eyebrows. “Good luck dying.”

Beca growled and shoved past them, stomping up the stairs to make a point even though it got mud everywhere.

She flew into Aubrey’s spare bedroom, ripped open her bag, and pulled out another change of clothes – yet another t-shirt and shorts combo, damn this weather – and practically flung herself into the bathroom before she could even let herself consider the possibility that a crazy, sack wearing, knife-wielding kidnapper/murderer could be in the house.

She closed the door behind her, realizing that there was no way to lock it. She looked around in vain for something to barricade it with, then decided she was being silly. She was just going to take a quick shower and jump right out and change. No reason to be scared at all.

Except for the fact that her entire friend group was being demolished. Right.

She stripped quickly, her shivering intensifying by the second. She left her ruined clothes in a soggy pile on the floor to deal with later and stepped over the edge of the tub to climb into the shower. She pulled the white, crinkly curtain closed behind herself, wanting nothing more than to drown her fears.

She hadn’t thought to pack any kind of soap or shampoo, but thankfully, Aubrey seemed to have stocked up. As in a hotel, there were little soap bars placed near the handle of the shower. She reached for one labeled “body wash” and unwrapped it. Then, she reached for the shower, thankful that it seemed to be a pretty straightforward lift handle instead of something complicated. She hesitated for a second, half-expecting the water to come out black or something with how everything else had gone, then decided she was being silly.

Beca turned the shower on, catching a spray of water right in the face.

Duh. She should have done that before getting in.

She adjusted the temperature, by some miracle avoiding burning or freezing herself. Using the bar of soap, she scrubbed at the lines of mud on her skin and even under her fingernails. It was thick, tarry, and tough to get off. She turned her back to the faucet, letting the spray rinse her hair free of the gunk and rain.

Ordinarily, she’d be singing or at least humming, but she wanted to listen. Just in case.

A huge clump of dirt fell from her hair and landed with a splat on the shower floor before slowly breaking up and flowing down the drain in a brown swirl. She wrinkled her nose at it in disgust, then continued scrubbing.

Was that a step creaking?

Beca froze for a second, then relaxed. It was her imagination, that’s all.

She scrubbed harder at her fingernails. That gunk was really in there.

Was that a footstep outside?

Stupid pit. Stupid retreat. And, oh, god, the Bellas. What were they going to do? They had to get out of this place before they all ended up missing.

Did the door just open?

Beca spun in the shower to face the door through the curtain. She didn’t see anything through the curtain, but she also didn’t really want to pull it back and look properly. She was only just getting warmed up and didn’t want to let the steam out.

She had to be imagining things. Stupid Paris and Cynthia-Rose and Chloe with their stupid, obscure movie references. No one ever gets attacked in the shower. That’s, like, sacred space.

She turned her back to the shower curtain, needing to get a particularly stubborn clot of mud from behind her ear. God, it was a good thing Chloe and Cynthia-Rose had been with her. She didn’t like to think what would have happen if she’d been stuck in that pit, waiting for that horrible man to show up and –

Her shower curtain was ripped back.

Beca whirled with a scream and covered herself automatically, expecting to see the burlap sack with its stitched-on smile, knife raised in the air and ready to strike.

It wasn’t him.

It was Chloe. A very naked, very muddy Chloe.

“Bec, stop screaming, it’s just me,” Chloe said in a bored voice, stepping over the tub edge to join Beca in the shower.

Beca could only mouth at her wordlessly, shrinking back automatically to give Chloe room to close the curtain behind her.

Chloe smiled at her and moved under the spray, mud running off her body in torrents.

Beca’s eyes followed it down.

Oh.

_Oh_.

“Dude!” Beca finally managed to spit, shooting her eyes to the ceiling. “Again?!”

Chloe laughed softly and replied, “No one wanders off alone, remember? And I’m muddy, too.”

“This is so weird,” Beca groaned, still looking everywhere but at Chloe. Sure, this wasn’t their first rodeo (for god’s sake, what was this girl’s problem?) and they knew each other well now, but that didn’t make Chloe jumping in her shower unannounced okay.

“It’s fine,” Chloe dismissed. “Soap?” she held out her hand for the bar.

Grumbling, Beca handed over the bar of soap she’d been using. She shivered again a little; Chloe was hogging all the water.

“Cold?” Chloe asked, her eyes flicking down briefly.

“No!” Beca cried, covering herself again.

Chloe rolled her eyes and leaned back to rinse her hair again.

Beca tried not to look.

“It’s fine, Bec,” Chloe breathed again, almost sounding impatient.

Beca almost laughed at that. “Nothing is fine!” she fired back. “Everyone is missing!”

Chloe lifted her head to stare into Beca’s eyes. “I know,” she whispered after a moment. “It’s terrifying.”

Beca’s breath caught at the raw honesty and fear in Chloe’s voice. By then, most of the mud had left her body, leaving her skin clean and pristine as always.

“But you know what?” Chloe asked, leaning forward a little.

Unconsciously, Beca mimicked her and stepped forward too.

“What?”

A corner of Chloe’s mouth quirked up almost sheepishly. “I’m glad I’m with you.”

“That’s a little messed up,” Beca muttered back, stepping even closer until their chests were almost touching. “But… I’m really glad I’m with you, too.”

Chloe’s eyes dropped to her lips, then back up.

Beca knew it was crazy. Their friends were missing, possibly forever, and yet…

There was nothing more she wanted in that moment than to closer her eyes, lean forward, and press her lips to Chloe’s.

So, she did.

She heard and felt Chloe’s breath catch in surprise, but then arms wrapped around her shoulders and Chloe’s lips softened under hers and she was being kissed back.

Chloe pulled her back under the water gently, bringing their bare bodies together and sending electricity shooting to Beca’s limbs. Chloe’s tongue traced her lower lip gently, and with an involuntary groan, Beca parted her lips, meeting Chloe stroke for stroke.

Chloe tasted just as sweet as she’d imagined.

Beca’s hands ended up on Chloe’s lower back; she traced the warm, damp skin she found there, running her fingers over the ridges of Chloe’s spine. Experimentally, she gently ran her nails back down the same path.

Chloe shivered in her arms and whimpered, her fingers threading into Beca’s hair.

It was amazing.

Beca’s head felt light and floaty, heat flooding her entire body. And when Chloe broke their kiss to drop her lips to the side of Beca’s neck, she felt a familiar tug in her lower stomach.

Chloe pressed open-mouthed kisses to Beca’s neck, her breathing becoming more rapid with each one. Beca’s eyes fluttered open at the first press of a tongue against her pulse point, then slammed shut at the first soft scrape of teeth.

It wasn’t enough. She wanted more. She wanted to keep going.

She wanted Chloe.

The electricity cut off with a sharp flash and a sudden buzz.

Immediately, the water turned icy, making Chloe yelp and jerk forward reflexively. Beca stumbled back, throwing an arm behind herself to catch them both on the wall before they could slip. Twisting around, Chloe reached for the faucet handle and twisted it off, cutting off the water and leaving them slumped against the shower wall in darkness.

For a moment, all Beca could hear was the pounding of her own heart and Chloe’s rapid breaths, right in her ear, reminding her of what they’d been so close to doing. Then –

“What just happened?” Chloe whispered into the darkness.


	6. Charles

“What just happened?” Chloe whispered into the darkness.

“I think…” breathed Beca, shoving off the shower wall to bring them both back to standing, “the power cut off.”

“Why?” Chloe’s voice cracked with fear.

Beca didn’t reply. She had no idea why the power would have gone out, especially while they’d been in the middle of… well.

“Let’s just get dressed quick, okay?” she suggested, hating how vulnerable they both were.

“Shame.”

“ _Chloe_.”

“Fine,” Chloe sighed, moving away from Beca – who missed the contact immediately – and stepping over the edge of the bathtub to reach for one of the towels folded near the sink. She dried off quickly, glancing toward the door.

It was dark in the bathroom, but Beca could still see enough of Chloe’s body to really, really wish they hadn’t been interrupted.

Trying hard to control her gutter-worthy thoughts, Beca stepped out of the shower as well to dry off with one of the other towels. Once she was dry, she reached for the change of clothes she’d brought with her. She got dressed quickly, hearing Chloe do the same with a change of clothes she’d brought. More than once, she caught Chloe staring at her – not that she minded, as she was sneaking peeks as well.

Once she was dressed, Beca ruffled the towel over her hair trying to dry it as best as she could. When she finished, Chloe was already done and watching her, her hair damp but clean.

“Ready?” Beca asked, her nerves completely shot.

“Wait,” Chloe said, reaching for Beca’s arm before she could open the door. “Do we need to… are we okay?”

Beca paused, trepidation filling her insides. She didn’t like to think that Chloe might regret what they’d done.

Beca shrugged, hoping it seemed casual, “Yeah, of course.”

Chloe nodded, looking relieved. The next second, though, she bit her lip and looked down at her own feet.

Beca stared; she couldn’t remember ever seeing Chloe look so unsure of herself.

“So,” Chloe began, “I know this isn’t a good time, but, like… do you want to…” she trailed off hopefully.

Beca felt her eyebrows shoot up as her nerves were replaced with excitement.

Chloe took a breath, then finished in a rush, “Do you want to try this? Us? As in, doing that again?”

Happiness, unexpected and warm, filled Beca’s chest like an inflating balloon. She’d never felt so light from just a question before. Maybe that should have scared her, but it didn’t. If anything, it calmed her and settled something deep within her.

“Definitely,” she breathed, watching Chloe’s face light up. “I’d – I’d been thinking about that for a while.”

Chloe’s expression shifted until it looked almost predatory. “Oh, really?” she asked, her voice low and sultry.

Thrown, Beca thought back to what she’d said. She felt her face warm when it clicked.

“No! Not just _that!_ ” she cried, flapping her arms in the direction of the shower. “I mean – that’s great, but, like – us. I’ve been thinking about us.”

Chloe’s face softened to tender amusement.

“I’ve been thinking about it,” Beca repeated more steadily, her embarrassment fading. “And I’d like to. If you want to,” she finished somewhat awkwardly.

Chloe beamed at her. “Totes.”

“Right,” Beca huffed, rubbing the back of her neck. “That’s settled, then.”

Still smiling, Chloe reached to lace her fingers with Beca’s, her thumb smoothing over Beca’s knuckles. Feeling lightheaded at even that small touch, Beca opened the bathroom door carefully, just in case the masked freak was waiting outside.

He wasn’t.

Exhaling silently in relief, Beca led Chloe through the hall and down the stairs carefully, listening for a telltale board squeak or footfall in the dim hallway. Thankfully, nothing happened, and they made it to the stairs. They picked their way down slowly, careful not to trip in the semi-darkness.

“There you guys are,” Cynthia-Rose sighed, when they’d made their way down to the living room where she and Paris sat on the couch. “I suppose you noticed the power went…” she trailed off, staring at them in confusion.

“Uh, what?” Beca asked, glancing down at herself, wondering if she and Chloe had switched shirts or something equally mortifying.

Frowning, Cynthia-Rose asked, “Why do you both have wet hair?”

Beca’s face warmed instantly and she gripped harder to Chloe’s hand. It wasn’t a problem for Cynthia-Rose to know about them, she’d just have liked more time to adjust to the idea of her and Chloe being… well, _her and Chloe_ before jumping in and telling people.

Not that there were many people left to tell.

“It was raining, remember?” Chloe said casually. If Beca hadn’t known better, she’d have believed that innocent tone.

Paris shook her head and pointed out, “But you’re both clean. You weren’t up there for very long, how’d you manage to –”

She was cut off by a huge gasp. Raising a finger to point at them, Cynthia-Rose probed gleefully, “Were you two in the shower _together?_ ”

“Gah…” Beca choked, panicking. “That’s not – I mean, it’s, well –”

“Yes,” Chloe grinned proudly. “We were. And what we did there is our business. Any questions?” she finished grandly, her eyes boring a hole in Paris’s face.

Paris’s mouth snapped shut and her eyes flicked between Beca and Chloe searchingly. Beca risked a glance at Cynthia-Rose, who winked at her, a small smile on her face.

“Good,” said Chloe smugly after a pause. “Can we deal with the power now, please?”

“Sure,” Cynthia-Rose shrugged, “but we’ve gotta find Amy now.”

“Why Amy specifically?”

“She owes me $30 on you two,” Cynthia-Rose replied with a huge grin.

Beca felt like strangling her only remaining Bella.

“ _Anyway_ ,” she growled, “What do we do about the power?”

“There’s a backup generator,” Paris spoke up, gesturing toward the lake side of the lodge. “We just need to kickstart it.”

Chloe shook her head. “We can’t do that,” she said, “that’s obviously what he wants.”

“We’re sitting ducks either way,” Paris replied, her voice rising in pitch. “Would you rather wait for him to come bursting in here?”

“You mean there isn’t another option?” Chloe asked.

Paris replied snappily, but Beca had tuned out of the conversation; a large smear across the front window of the lodge had caught her attention.

She narrowed her eyes at it, unable to make it out. She walked toward it slowly, trying to see it better. It was scrawled across the window, framed by dark clouds outside and shrouded in shadow from inside. By then, the others had noticed her distraction.

“Beca? What –”

Chloe’s question was cut off abruptly by a flash of lightning that served to illuminate the smear. Across the window, red letters glistened and dripped down the glass, still wet from their application:

_I see you_

Beca felt like her entire body had been plunged into frigid water. Paris gasped and Cynthia-Rose swore even as the lightning passed and thunder rolled overhead, rattling the walls of the lodge.

Beca spun on the spot, her back to the window. “Did you see him?” she fired at Paris and Cynthia-Rose. “While we were in the shower, did you see him do this?”

They both shook their heads “no,” eyes wide with shock.

Beca crossed the floor to stand next to Chloe protectively, her eyes scanning the windows, searching for any sign of a burlap sack mask pressed against one. She didn’t see him, but her skin still crawled; she wanted to hide behind something, but there were no curtains to draw.

She shuddered, knowing he was watching them.

“That’s it, we have to go. I’m not waiting in here to get killed in the dark,” she ranted, fear flooding her veins like ice.

A hand smoothed across her lower back and she looked over to see Chloe nod once, looking scared. Paris rose to her feet instantly, a determined look on her face. Cynthia-Rose, however, didn’t move. Her eyes remained fixed on the window, wide with terror.

“Cynthia-Rose?” Beca prompted. “You want to come with us?”

“I’m not going,” she replied slowly, finally tearing her gaze away from the window to meet Beca’s eyes.

Beca drew back a little. She exchanged a surprised glance with Chloe, then looked back to Cynthia-Rose.

“But –”

“No. I’m tired of it,” Cynthia-Rose interrupted. “I’m going to go upstairs and hide under a bed or something until you get back. I’m not wandering around outside anymore.”

“Separating isn’t a good idea,” Chloe said quickly.

Beca agreed, thinking of all the times separating had just meant that someone was going to go missing.

“Neither is going outside,” Cynthia-Rose countered. “I’m staying.”

“Dude, you can’t stay here alone,” Beca protested. If separating was bad, then leaving one person on their own to fend for themselves was worse.

Paris flicked her hand in the air. “I can stay with her,” she offered.

“But you know how to fix the generator,” Chloe argued, her hand twitching on Beca’s back.

Paris shrugged dismissively. “That’s easy,” she said. “You just have to flip the breaker on the side, pump the button twice, and crank the handle clockwise until it goes.”

Beca raised her eyebrows. That didn’t sound terribly easy.

“Uh… you got that?” she turned to Chloe, who nodded with a confidence Beca certainly wasn’t feeling.

“I think so.”

Beca struggled to keep herself from looking too skeptical. It was kind of a lot of directions, and if they were going to be in the dark and in a rush, it was going to seem a lot harder.

“Well, if you’re sure…” she said, half speaking to both Chloe and Cynthia-Rose.

Chloe smiled, and Cynthia-Rose stared back resolutely. Beca let her eyes close for just a second to steel her nerves, then opened them to see everyone watching her closely.

Great.

“Okay,” she sighed, “we’re heading out then.”

“Bye. Good luck. I’ll be hiding,” Cynthia-Rose dismissed, already standing to make her way to an upstairs bedroom. “Try not to die.”

Gritting her teeth to keep from responding, Beca turned sharply to Chloe.

“Ready?”

“Whenever you are,” she replied bracingly.

“Right,” Beca said. “Let’s go.”

* * *

She regretted the decision almost as soon as they stepped outside. It had stopped raining, but the sky remained overcast and extremely dark for it being only late afternoon. Though, Beca thought, the day had felt like an entire month, so maybe it wasn’t that weird.

They picked their way down the steps, Beca forcing herself not to look at the gleaming red lettering on the front window. They started toward the empty pool, headed for the small shack that housed the generator. It was going to be a long walk; the shack was hidden behind the cabin where they’d found Jessica’s bloodied laundry.

Every muscle in Beca’s body was drawn tight, like wire ready to snap. Her breathing came in shallow gasps, and her eyes constantly scanned for movement, looking for a hulking figure to hidden in the swirling fog. She half-expected him to appear at any second, materializing from the mist with his wicked knife to attack her and Chloe without mercy. It had probably been a stupid idea to leave the lodge, she realized, but they hadn’t had another choice. It felt much better to be moving and doing something instead of sitting inside waiting for him.

Besides, she’d go anywhere with Chloe (who was probably just as terrified as Beca was, if the strength with which she was gripping her hand was any indication).

They picked their way over the leaves and twigs on the ground at a pace both too fast and too slow for Beca’s liking – she was anxious to reach the generator, and yet simultaneously terrified of what probably awaited them inside. They passed the cabins slowly. Beca’s heart pounded in her throat so viciously she wondered if it was possible to get sick from it. Her mouth was dry as bone and her legs quaked, every second they spent out in the open drawing out the horrified anticipation of seeing Charles’s stitched-on smile arise from nowhere.

Chloe stepped on a twig, snapping it with a sound like a gunshot.

Beca jerked violently, her nerves shattered.

“Sorry, Bec,” Chloe whispered, contrite.

“It’s okay,” Beca breathed back, gently squeezing Chloe’s hand.

Despite her terror, Beca found comfort in Chloe’s presence, warm and solid.

They drew closer to the laundry cabin, electing to walk between it and the neighboring cabin to get to the small shack Beca could spot behind it. It was small and, like everything else on the retreat grounds, incredibly run down. The foundation crumbled, the lone window was cracked and filthy, and the roof sagged dangerously. It looked far more like a garden shed than anything an important generator should be stored in.

As they made their way past the laundry cabin, a quiet scraping noise reached Beca’s ears. She paused.

“Do you hear that?” she asked softly.

Chloe froze next to her instantly, head turning and hand tightening around Beca’s. “What?” she breathed.

“There’s like a… like something sliding inside,” she said, gesturing to the laundry cabin and straining her ears.

They stood there for several moments, waiting for the noise to present itself again. There was nothing, though, and soon Beca began to wonder if she’d imagined it. It was likely; she was so on edge that she wouldn’t put it past herself to be hearing things, especially considering there was no reason for anyone – there was no one left, really – to be inside the laundry cabin.

“It’s nothing, I guess,” she dismissed with a shrug. “Let’s keep going.”

They continued toward the generator shack, every step closer sending a sense of doom settling into Beca’s stomach like rocks. They reached the door and paused; Beca pressed her ear to the wood and listened hard for anything amiss from within.

“Ready when you are,” Chloe said quietly.

Beca nodded, then reached for the handle. It was unlocked and turned easily in her hand. With a final steadying breath, she pushed the door forward with a squeal of rusty hinges.

A wave of musty air crashed out, filling her nostrils instantly. It was dim inside, but Beca could make out a wide, stable-looking floorspace, a wooden, slotted closet door on one wall, and a machine that must have been the generator against the opposite wall.

With one final squeeze of Chloe’s hand, Beca stepped inside, feeling Chloe move in right behind her. They left the door open to allow some natural light to spill into the building, which made the interior only slightly less gloomy. The floor creaked beneath their feet but held their weight.

Beca went straight to the generator, which wasn’t running.

“Okay, what do we do again?” she asked. “Crank the thing?”

Chloe frowned at the generator. “I think we flip the breaker, pump the button twice, and then we crank the thing.”

“Hmm.”

“Here,” Chloe supplied, reaching forward to flick up a little switch on the side. “I think that’s the breaker.”

“Great, so then…” Beca reached forward and pressed an important-looking button on the machine twice.

“Is that it?” Chloe muttered. “We just… crank and go?”

Beca’s lips twitched, her fear momentarily receding. “’Crank and go?’ Sounds dirty.”

“Shut up.”

“No. It was funny and –”

“ _Shut up_ ,” Chloe’s tone abruptly shifted to something more serious. Beca fell silent immediately, listening.

The unmistakable sound of heavy boots clunking over leaves and twigs filled her ears. She froze for an instant as his footsteps drew closer.

“Hide!” Chloe hissed, her face suddenly pale.

Beca didn’t need telling twice. She whirled, seeing only the closet with the slotted door as a hiding place. It would have to do.

He was getting closer.

Beca lunged forward, tearing open the door. Chloe flung herself inside, trying to make herself look smaller among the mops, brooms, and various other cleaning supplies hidden within. Beca followed her, easing the door closed behind them both so he wouldn’t hear it close.

Once inside, Beca felt Chloe shrink back to press herself against the back wall of the closet. She shifted, adjusting her position so she was between Chloe and the door. That creep would have to go through her first before laying a hand on Chloe.

 “Oh, no you don’t,” Chloe breathed into the back of her neck. Sturdy arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her back until she was standing beside Chloe rather than in front of her.

She wanted to argue, but her voice was snatched by the sound of his boots clunking right outside. She peered through the wooden slots in the door, able to see slivers of the main room through them.

The sight of a burlap sack peeking through the doorway of the shack stopped her heart.

She clamped a hand over her own mouth, stifling any noise she might make; next to her, Chloe did the same, stiffening with fear against Beca’s side.

He prowled into the shack slowly, his boots clunking on the floor. Light glanced off the long blade in his hand, rebounding into Beca’s eyes from between the wooden shutters in the door. She shuddered, adrenaline pouring through her veins. Chloe’s fingers dug into Beca’s waist painfully.

She watched him face the generator for a moment, but he didn’t touch it. Instead, he paced around the room as if trying to sniff them out. He passed so close to their door that Beca wanted to throw up. Surely, he’d open it, look inside, and see them. It was the only hiding place in the entire place; he must have known they were there.

He stopped right outside the closet, facing it. Through the shutters, she could make out every weave in his burlap mask. The nametag on his maintenance suit read _Charles_. Beside her, she felt Chloe stop breathing.

Beca’s mind raced, trying to see how anything in the closet with them could be used as a weapon. She supposed they could try to attack him with a broom or something, but what good was that against a knife?

She was sure he could hear their hearts beating; hers hammered against her rib cage traitorously, as if it knew its beats were limited.

He reached for the door handle, then hesitated.

A bead of sweat ran down Beca’s spine.

He turned away.

By some miracle, he clunked away from the closet. She watched his back as he went through the door of the shack and out of sight.

Beca let out the breath she hadn’t known she was holding. Chloe sagged and Beca glanced at her, taking in the relief on her face and the sweat on her brow.

“That was… awful,” she whispered shakily.

“I know,” Beca breathed, her heart still pounding painfully. “Think he’s gone?”

“Seems like it,” shrugged Chloe, running a trembling hand through her hair.

Beca counted to thirty in her head, but the sound of his boots had long faded. She let her eyes slide closed briefly, still recovering.

“We still have to start the generator,” Chloe said eventually, making Beca’s eyes reopen to stare at the offending machine through the slots in their closet door.

Beca felt her face twist into a grimace; she’d much rather stay hidden in their closet for the rest of time. Chloe was right, though; they needed to get electricity back to the lodge so they could regroup there and… do something. Whatever the hell that was going to be.

“Okay,” she said. “I’ll go crank the thing. You wait here, just in case, and once it’s started, we go.”

“No way!” Chloe argued. “We’ll go out together and run for it!”

“Chlo,” Beca sighed, “please just… stay here for the two seconds it’ll take. Just in case.”

After all they’d been through together, Beca couldn’t bear the thought of Chloe being in any more danger than she had to be. It made much more sense for just her to be exposed for the instant it took to start the generator rather than putting Chloe at risk, too.

“But –”

“Please?” Beca begged, staring into Chloe’s eyes. “I’ll be fast.”

Chloe bit her lip, frowning. “I… okay,” she finally agreed, glancing away.

Beca nodded, relief lifting a weight from her shoulders. Before she could change her mind, she reached for the closet door handle, turning and pushing the door open carefully, her eyes fixed on the entryway to the shack. She made to step out of their hiding place, but before she could, Chloe grabbed her shoulders and spun her roughly. Before Beca could so much as draw a surprised breath, Chloe threw her lips over Beca’s, holding her in a searing kiss that filled Beca’s stomach like liquid fire.

The kiss lasted several seconds; when Beca finally had to break away for air, she felt dazed. Chloe’s eyes were also a little unfocused; Beca watched as she blinked several times to clear them.

“Wh-what was that for?” Beca rasped, still light-headed.

“For luck,” whispered Chloe, leaning forward to place a quick peck on Beca’s lips. “Now, go. Be careful.”

Beca could only nod, her brain still scrambled. She stumbled out of the closet, keeping a careful eye on the front door in case he showed up again. Reaching for the generator, she cranked the handle clockwise frantically, not caring if she was being too rough with the equipment. After three turns, the thing sputtered, then rolled over and started, humming surprisingly quietly for something that looked decades old. Beca felt a huge smile break over her face; it had worked, which meant the lodge almost definitely had electricity again. Victorious, Beca turned around to tell Chloe it was okay and that they could leave.

Instead, she stared directly into the burlap mask of the man, who stood in the entrance of the shack, framed in the doorway.

Shock shot through her like electricity. She was rooted to the floor, paralyzed with terror.

Her throat tightened.

He tiled his head to the side, as if curious about her.

She swallowed.

“Can we talk about this?” she choked, not recognizing the sound of her own voice.

He lunged at her, knife raised.

Her scream mingled with Chloe’s as she dodged to the side, avoiding his attack. He looked toward the closet at the sound, half-turning toward Chloe.

Beca acted on instinct. “Hey!” she shouted, moving toward the door of the shack. “Follow me, fucker!”

His mask faced her again and he took a step toward her; she threw herself out the door and into the cool air. She didn’t know where she was going, only that she had to draw him away from Chloe. She sprinted toward the back of the cabins, following the path they’d taken to get to the generator.

She heard rapid footfalls; she glanced back to see him running full-out behind her, knife slicing the air.

Terrified – but grimly satisfied – she turned back to see where she was going, urging her legs on faster, faster, faster. Residual mud sucked at her shoes, slowing her down, but she pushed ahead.

A shout from behind almost made her trip. She threw another look over her shoulder to see him chasing her, and beyond that, Chloe chasing after him at top speed.

Beca wanted to both laugh and scream; of _course_ Chloe would follow.

It’s exactly what she’d have done if their positions were reversed.

She broke free of the cabins, running toward the woods with no goal in mind other than getting away from him. Her breaths ripped from her lungs in jagged gasps, the chill air stabbing at her throat. Her legs burned, and yet, she urged them to move faster.

She was almost to the trees, but knew he was drawing closer. She could imagine his knife raised in the air, poised to strike.

A stitch stabbed into her side, but she kept going; it wasn’t like she could stop. It felt absurdly like a dream, where no matter how fast she ran, he’d be right behind her. She kept running, just barely reaching the tree line, where leaves had fallen thickly to the forest floor. She ran over them, throwing another glance over her shoulder to see him still following, though further back than she’d expected.

Her foot landed on something spongy and she looked down, confused, as the ground seemed to rush up at her. In the next second, she was being hoisted into the air. She screamed and struggled, feeling ropes wrap around her; she was caught in some kind of net trap.

“Beca, no!” Chloe screamed from below.

Beca twisted, trying to break loose, but stopped almost immediately – the ground was a long way down. Craning her neck, she could see the man still running toward her. Chloe followed behind him, her eyes focused on Beca, her face filled with terror.

Beca wanted to cry. She didn’t see a way out.

The man was getting closer by the second.

Beca looked to Chloe one last time, wishing more than anything she’d made a move sooner. They could have had months, or even years, so to only have been together for barely an hour seemed cruel. Chloe wasn’t looking at her, though; instead, her eyes were fixed on the man’s back, glaring determinedly as she ran toward him.

He’d stopped under her net to gaze up at her. She looked down into his burlap sack face, hating it more than she’d ever hated anything, and above all, wishing that she had her Bellas back.

“I love you awesome nerds!” she shouted desperately, hoping that by some miracle they could hear her from wherever they were.

She watched the man raise his knife and point it at her, clearly ready to throw it or something, and she tensed.

Then, Chloe plowed into him from behind, tackling him to the ground. The man cried out in surprise as he fell, dropping his knife, and Beca stopped struggling against the net instantly. That had sounded like…

Chloe sat on him, straddling his waist to hold him down. She stared at him, brows furrowed, and before Beca could so much as shout out a warning, she reached for his burlap sack mask and pulled it off.

Long blonde hair tumbled out and Beca gasped.

“Aubrey?” Chloe asked incredulously.

“Hi, Chloe,” Aubrey groaned from the ground. “Nice tackle.”

Beca stared in shock. It wasn’t possible. And yet…

“It’s… it’s you?” Chloe whispered, the hurt in her voice obvious.

“Technically,” a new voice interrupted, and Paris – plus Cynthia-Rose – walked up out of nowhere, a smile on her face, “it’s all of us.”

Leaves rustled in the woods. Beca twisted precariously in her net to see David and Emily step from behind a tree; beyond them, Stacie and Amy appeared, and on their other side, Ashley, Jessica, and Flo moved out into the open. They all had huge smiles on their faces and, bizarrely, they began to applaud.

Beca gaped; she couldn’t believe it. They were okay. They were all okay. Relief filled her chest, even as her mind flooded with confusion. She glanced down to Chloe, who looked just as lost as she felt.

“What’s going on?” Chloe asked, looking at each of the Bellas in turn as their applause faded.

“I think you found your sound,” Aubrey said happily (still pinned to the forest floor.) “Happy team bonding, Bellas.”

Understanding filled Chloe’s face and she moved off Aubrey slowly, helping her to her feet.

Beca could only stare uncomprehendingly from her position in the net. Found their sound? Team bonding?

“Um, hi,” she said loudly, “but what the fuck?”

“Hang tight, Beca,” Aubrey called, “Lilly will get you –”

Beca heard the rope snap and before she could so much as swear, she landed on the ground painfully. Well, she landed on Amy, who’d moved under her.

Beca scrambled free of the net, rising to her feet and helping Amy up with a curse. Glancing up, she saw Lilly hanging upside down, her legs wrapped around the rope and tiny knife in hand.

The others watched her, smiling. Stacie even reached out to her, but she jerked away.

“What the fuck?” she repeated. “You’re telling me that this whole thing – this whole motherfucking thing – was some kind of sick bonding exercise?”

The smiles faded from most of the Bellas’ faces. Lilly shimmied down the tree to join them all on the ground.

“And you were all in on it?” Beca continued. “This entire time, you all knew?”

“Beca –” Emily started.

“No!” Beca cut her off. “Not cool, you guys! I was terrified! I thought we were going to die! What the _fuck_ kind of –”

“ _Beca_ ,” Aubrey said firmly. “Don’t be mad at them, they didn’t know. It was my idea.” She paused, then added, “Well, mine and Paris and David’s.”

Beca deflated slightly at that but rounded instead on Aubrey.

“What do you mean?”

Aubrey shrugged. “It’s a corporate retreat, but a horror one. We –” she gestured to Paris and David – “put on a horror theme and scare people into cooperating. It works remarkably well for team building.”

“There’s no ghost,” David added, “and no crazy dude. It’s just us.”

Beca opened and closed her mouth several times incredulously. “But – that’s – you’re – I’m –”

“Aubrey, that’s horrible!” Chloe gasped. “How could you do that?”

“It works,” Aubrey insisted, “and you guys needed some serious help.”

“Yeah, sorry, you guys,” Emily jumped in. “I was really scared, but then Aubrey explained, and she’s right. It did help us!”

“Tell them, Aubrey,” Stacie added, “before Beca has an aneurism.”

Beca glared.

“Yeah, I think you should explain,” said Chloe, moving to sit cross-legged on the ground and sounding much more calm than Beca felt.

Aubrey nodded and gestured everyone to sit on the ground. “This is going to take a while, so, everyone get comfortable.”

The Bellas all stepped out into the small clearing, settling down on the ground in a circle with Paris and David. Beca glared at them all and remained standing until, with an impatient tut, Chloe reached for her hand and yanked her down next to her. She reluctantly shifted to a more comfortable position, keeping a hold on Chloe’s hand.

“So,” Aubrey began grandly, “from the beginning. When I heard this campground was up for sale, I immediately saw the opportunity for a corporate retreat, because I like the yelling, but I wanted to add a twist. I’d seen plenty of movies about ‘cabin in the woods’ style horror camps, and figured, why not do that here? The location is perfect.”

“Out in the middle of nowhere,” Beca grumbled.

Aubrey nodded. “Exactly, and the low spot on the lake means tons of fog and creepy weather. Plus, nothing bonds people quite like pure terror, right?”

Beca was more than a little concerned by the enthusiasm with which the others voiced their agreement.

“So, I made it a horror retreat, and purposely made the cabins and everything look creepy with decorations and props. I drained the pool, bought that creepy costume, and hired Paris and David as actors to help me pull it off.”

“That’s why they’re so hot,” Amy interrupted. “Knew you were a shit gardener,” she added to David, who lifted an eyebrow.

“The story, though?” Chloe asked. “Was that real?”

“Well,” Aubrey said slowly, turning her discarded mask in her hands, “a camp counselor named Charles did die in a freak lightning accident, so the camp closed. But no one else died, and I made up the story of the kid and the ghost.”

There was a brief pause while they absorbed the information; Beca’s mind whirred, things falling into place gradually.

Aubrey continued, “Everything else on the retreat has been fake. Here, look,” she said, reaching for the knife on the ground. She picked it up and, before Beca could even gasp a warning, pressed her hand into the blade. It collapsed in on itself instantly, leaving her hand unharmed. It was clearly a prop made for a movie.

Aubrey put the “knife” aside and said, “My gun is fake, and the flickering lights are under my control with a little remote. There is actually cell service, but I had blockers installed so it would look like there was none and you’d give me your phones. We really couldn’t have anyone calling the police on us.”

Chloe leaned forward. “That’s so dangerous, though! What if someone got hurt?”

Amy coughed pointedly, moving her boot over the forest floor.

Paris waved off her concern. “Nah. We’re all trained in first aid, and we do actually have an emergency landline, just hidden away.”

“Okay, but how did you pull that whole thing off?” Beca asked abruptly, still annoyed. “You know, with the kidnapping?”

Aubrey smiled happily as if she’d been waiting for that question. “With a lot of planning,” she said. “We started by scaring you guys with the story, and then just made everything we did purposely really creepy.”

“Yeah, what was up with Chippy?” Cynthia-Rose asked with a shiver. “I hate that stupid thing.”

All the Bellas around the circle winced and nodded, including Beca. She’d really hated Chippy.

“Chippy was my idea,” David said, raising his hand awkwardly. “It’s a weird ventriloquism doll my dad used to have. That thing scared the hell out of me when I was a kid, so I figured it’d be perfect.”

“But he moved! He ate dinner!” Beca protested, the image of Chippy’s empty spaghetti plate flashing behind her eyes.

Aubrey waved a hand. “When the lights went out that first time, I just grabbed him and moved him in the dark. At dinner, I ate the pasta and just switched plates with him while you guys were distracted over the tent. I carried him around to creep you out, and then put him weird places when no one was looking to make it seem like he was alive.”

“But – it seemed like he was making you act all weird,” Beca said defensively.

She couldn’t believe she’d been scared of that stupid puppet.

“It’s called acting, Beca,” Aubrey said imperiously. “It’s really just a wooden puppet.”

“How’d you pull off the kidnapping?” Chloe frowned. “That all seemed really real.”

All the Bellas nodded at that; Flo even shuddered a little.

“Like I said, a lot of planning,” Aubrey answered. “And some help. The first few were the hardest, because we had to get you guys to separate. We’d had some elaborate thing planned for the first night in the tent, but then Amy got up to go… well,” Aubrey wrinkled her nose and flapped her hand uselessly. “That helped. She wasn’t supposed to fall in the pit, though, that was an accident,” she added.

“Yeah, and my ankle still hurts like a bitch, so thanks for that,” Amy complained.

Flo frowned. “What was the pit for?”

“It was a practice one we dug,” replied Paris. “The only pit we were supposed to have was the one Beca fell into.”

Beca grimaced. Chloe’s hand squeezed hers once in sympathy.

“Anyway,” Aubrey plowed on, “I was the one dressed in the costume that Amy saw when she started screaming. I was trying to make sure she was okay, but then you all split up to look for her, so it worked out. I doubled back and around and found Jessica and Ashley wandering, looking for her. I stopped them and explained that I was ‘kidnapping’ them to kick off a bonding exercise. They spent the night on an air mattress in my room.”

Beca shifted her gaze to Ashley and Jessica, who both smiled sheepishly.

“She nearly gave us heart attacks when we first saw her,” Ashley admitted.

“Yeah, but once she explained we were totally down,” Jessica added happily. Then, she frowned. “It sure took you guys a long time to notice –”

“So,” Chloe jumped in hastily, “the footsteps Beca and I heard?”

“That was me,” Paris said. “It was my job to wander around and make sure you guys didn’t get hurt falling in the woods or something. You heard me, and got creeped out, so I went with it,” she shrugged.

David leaned forward and said, “Then, after we’d patched up Amy and you guys went to bed, I went back outside to take the battery out of the bus and hid it in my room in the lodge. We’d already taken the batteries out of our cars before you’d even gotten to the retreat, to set the stage for that little stunt.”

“Told you he did it,” Beca muttered, earning an eye roll from Chloe.

Aubrey shifted her position on the ground and said, “The next day, we could tell it was already working. It got Beca to confess to her secret internship, and you guys were starting to work together to find Ashley and Jessica.”

Chloe nodded, looking thoughtful. Beca glowered, hating that Aubrey was right.

“The bloody clothes, though?” Chloe asked. “How’d you pull that one off?”

“That was trickier,” Aubrey said with a self-satisfied grin. “We had to make sure you guys divided into the right groups. Like, Paris purposely went with you, Beca, because she knew Chloe would follow.”

Cynthia-Rose snorted, and Beca glanced over to see a pink tinge appear on Chloe’s cheeks. She nudged her with her shoulder, trying to convey it was okay.

“I went with Emily and Lilly,” David said, “because Aubrey’d said we should take them next. And that left her with Stacie, Flo, and Cynthia-Rose. When we split up, I explained everything to those two, then I used some fake blood to make it look like I got hit by someone.”

“I’m sorry, you guys!” Emily burst, her eyes wide. “I wanted to tell you so badly, but David said it would help the Bellas to go along with it!”

Chloe shrugged and reassured her, “Anything to help the Bellas. I’d have done the same.”

“But where did they go?” Beca wondered. “You three” – she pointed between Aubrey, David, and Paris – “were with other people the whole time.”

“They met up with me in the woods,” Ashley said, “and I showed them where to hide until everything blew over.”

“And while they did that,” Jessica interjected, “I was doing the bloody laundry thing. Aubrey had us change our clothes, and we put fake blood on our other stuff.”

“Cornstarch and food coloring,” Ashley said helpfully.

Jessica nodded. “Right. So, we put the fake bloody stuff in the laundry room, and Paris took you guys there.”

Aubrey took over. “We had to be really careful about the timing and you finding the clothes and Emily and Lilly disappearing,” she said. “Paris’s scream in the laundry room was the signal for David to start yelling in the woods, so you guys would run out to him. Then, while you were with him, Jessica went back into the laundry cabin to clean up and write that message on the mirror in fake blood.”

“That was my favorite part,” Jessica said gleefully, wiggling a little where she sat. “After I cleaned up and hid my stuff, I got dressed in the freaky costume and hid in the woods while you guys walked back. I purposely let you see me,” she said to Beca.

“Yeah, that was scary,” Beca muttered, remembering the glimpse of the burlap sack she’d seen.

“So,” Chloe jumped in, “when we left the laundry and regrouped in the lodge…”

“Ashley, Jessica, Lilly, and I waited in the laundry cabin,” Emily finished. “We watched from there when you guys went to the bus, and then when David took you to the garage, I got dressed in the costume and went to the empty pool to wait.”

 “While she did that,” Paris said, “the others went to hide in Aubrey’s room in the lodge to stay warm and to stay hidden.”

Beca leaned back, impressed in spite of herself. She hadn’t seen any sign of any of that, beyond feeling like she was being watched.

“What about the birds?” she asked weakly, cringing at the memory.

Aubrey raised her hand. “As it turns out, I have a talent for bending animals’ will to match mine. I trained the birds to attack like that. Not enough to hurt anyone,” she added, “just enough to scare people. I took Amy inside since she was in the wheelchair.”

Beca nodded, remembering how the birds hadn’t done nearly as much damage as they could have.

“That’s when I got kidnapped,” Stacie cut in proudly.

“Right,” David said. “We figured someone would make a run for it, and it happened to be her.”

Stacie flipped her hair over her shoulder with a wink.

“I climbed out of the pool in the costume when I heard Stacie running at me,” Emily said, grinning at Stacie. “Then I just had to grab her.”

“And I followed to make sure she didn’t panic too badly, and that Emily got a hold of her,” said David. “And we all fell into the pool onto a padded mat.”

“But you disappeared!” Chloe interjected, pointing at Emily.

“Trap door,” David dismissed. “Nothing big, just a little nook for us all to hide in while you guys were there.”

“It was horrible,” Stacie said with a shiver. “But once they got me into the little hatch, Emily pulled off the mask and David told me everything. He was _very_ reassuring,” she added with yet another wink.

“And so then we were inside,” Aubrey redirected them pointedly. She turned to Chloe. “Sorry you got sick,” she said apologetically. “We didn’t mean for that to happen.”

Chloe shrugged. “It’s okay,” she said. “Bec and I had a nice bonding moment.”

Cynthia-Rose and Amy exchanged delighted looks; Beca, face burning, decided to change the subject.

“So, the floorboard I heard was actually…”

“That was us,” Ashley revealed. “Hiding in Aubrey’s bedroom. We were trying to figure out where you guys were, and you almost saw us.”

“Right. And Emily and Stacie were...?”

“We waited outside with David,” Stacie said. “He said the plan was to get half of you outside again.”

Beca let her eyes close; she could see it happening, could imagine the others watching them carefully, orchestrating the timing perfectly.

“So,” Emily said, “when we saw you guys come back downstairs through the window, I went around to the lake and screamed really loud a few times.”

“The pit? The splash?” Beca asked.

Emily shrugged. “I threw a big rock in the water.”

“The pit was us, remember?” Paris said, gesturing between her, Aubrey, and David. “It was supposed to distract you guys while we took care of the inside of the lodge.”

Chloe laughed a little at that, running a hand through her hair. “That was terrifying,” she said. “Good job.”

“Thanks,” Aubrey smiled. “When we saw you fall in the pit, we explained to Flo and Amy what was going on. Then, Lilly, Ashley, and Jessica came downstairs, and Stacie and David came inside, and together we trashed the lodge really quickly.”

“They wouldn’t let me start a fire,” Lilly whispered.

Beca’s mind flashed back to the upturned furniture, the messy kitchen, and the flipped table. She had to hand it to Aubrey; that was dedication.

“Then, before you guys could come back inside,” Aubrey continued, “we went out and hid in the laundry cabin.”

“And I went out to get you guys once it was all ready,” Paris concluded.

“Acting,” Chloe muttered under her breath.

Paris nodded, oblivious to the slight venom in Chloe’s tone.

Beca pinched the bridge of her nose. “So, then… while Chloe and I were… uh, in the shower…”

Several of the Bellas exchanged gleeful looks; Aubrey even looked like she was suppressing a small smile.

“Paris told me everything,” Cynthia-Rose supplied, saving Beca from further embarrassment. “So, we were all in on it, except for you two.”

Paris nodded. “Yeah, we were even the ones who wrote the ‘I see you’ on the window while you guys were… otherwise occupied.”

“And that,” finished Aubrey grandly, “was when I cut the power, knowing Paris would get you out to the generator. I put on the costume, and when you passed the laundry cabin where we were all hiding, I went outside to meet you at the generator. You know the rest.”

Chloe squinted at her. “You totes knew we were in the closet.”

Aubrey smiled crookedly. “Yeah. That was a bad hiding place.”

Amy nudged Stacie and whispered something in her ear. By the grin that spread over Stacie’s face, Beca had a feeling she and Chloe had just been the subject of an ‘in the closet’ joke.

Chloe sat in silence for a moment, looking like she was thinking. For her part, Beca was equally annoyed and awed. It had taken some serious planning on Aubrey’s part to pull all that off.

“That’s… really cool, Aubrey. I’m impressed,” Chloe finally said, a smile starting to grow on her face. “And you were all in on it!” she exclaimed, looking around at the Bellas. “That really is some good team bonding!”

Beca grunted.

“Bec?” Chloe turned to ask cautiously. “Are you still mad?”

Beca snorted. “Um, yeah. Abso-fucking-lutely.”

The triumphant looks on the faces of the others faded slightly. Beca waited, then tilted her head back and groaned.

“But that was also really awesome.”

The tension broke, and everyone laughed. Beca grudgingly allowed a smile to fill her face and picked up her head to meet Chloe’s beaming gaze.

“Seriously, Aubrey,” she said, looking past Chloe. “That was scary as fuck and you pulled it off.”

Aubrey’s eyebrows lifted in surprise at the praise. “Thanks, Beca. Plus, the Bellas…?” she trailed off, looking around hopefully at them all.

Beca looked around as well, seeing everyone smiling happily back at her.

“Come on, Shawshank,” Amy prompted. “We heard you say you love us while you were dangling up in that net.”

Beca refrained from rolling her eyes and conceded, “Yeah. I guess you’re all pretty great,” she sighed, knowing they wouldn’t let her live that one down for a while.

“What do you think?” she asked, looking to Chloe, running her thumb over the back of her hand. “Did the retreat pay off?”

Chloe nodded happily and replied. “I think we found our sound.”

And she leaned forward to press a kiss to Beca’s lips while the Bellas whooped and whistled around them.

* * *

“Come on, Bec, we’re gonna be late!”

“I’m coming,” Beca grumbled as she climbed onto the bus, the last one yet again.

She shoved her duffel into the overhead storage and plopped herself down in a seat next to Chloe, who immediately wound their hands together. Beca’s skin tingled even at that simple touch; she didn’t think she’d ever get tired of that.

“Everyone in?” Cynthia-Rose called from the driver’s seat.

“Yep!” came the chorus of Bellas.

“Let’s blow this popsicle stand,” Amy added, her ankle still in its boot and elevated on the seat across the aisle from her.

At that, Cynthia-Rose started the bus effortlessly (David had put the battery back) and they began down the driveway, leaving the retreat behind. As they left the main retreat grounds, they waved out the windows at Aubrey, Paris, and David, who were scheduled to receive another group – this time, corporate bigwigs – later in the evening.

“What do you think?” Chloe asked Beca softly as the bus blundered past the thicket of trees in the woods. “Do we have a chance against DSM?”

Beca nodded thoughtfully, staring out the window. “Yeah, I think we…”

She trailed off abruptly, catching sight of something in the woods.

“Uh, Bec? Beca?” Chloe tapped her knee once. “Earth to Beca?”

Beca refocused on her, blinking rapidly. “Yeah, sorry, what?”

Chloe lifted her eyebrows. “Uh, you were saying?”

“Oh, right,” Beca recovered. “I think we’ve got a real chance. I was thinking, and I have a few ideas. We need Mrs. Junk, though.”

“Oh, okay!” Chloe said brightly, twisting in her seat to find Emily. “Hey, Em?”

Emily replied, but Beca tuned them out, instead looking out the window again. Her eyes searched through the tree trunks, scanning anxiously.

She hadn’t wanted to tell Chloe, but she’d been sure that for just a moment, she’d caught a glimpse of a man in a singed-looking maintenance suit, holding what looked like a pool cleaning net.

Charles.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that's it! Thanks for going on this ride with me. I'm sorry if the ending wasn't exactly what you were expecting. I hope it was convincing, though, and that everything made sense! If you have any questions, feel free to reach out to me on Tumblr @lets-talk-appella.
> 
> Disclaimer: I have no idea how generators work, so forgive me for that.


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